


No Strings Attached

by drikstreedur



Category: Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Wilford Warfstache - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: I'll put any potentially off-putting kinks at the beginning of each chapter I promise, M/M, but it still has plenty of porn don't you worry, but then my brain told me to go fuck myself, originally going to be PWP, self-indulgent crackship, so now it has a plot, there are too many I plan on covering in this work man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drikstreedur/pseuds/drikstreedur
Summary: After an interview with esteemed up-and-coming rock star Danny Sexbang on his talk show, Warfstache has a proposition for him. A friends with benefits situation, no emotional attachment or monogamy. Sounds like a win-win, right?





	1. A compelling argument

"And I bring to you tonight's guest... The one, the only, the _sultry_... Danny Sexbang, of Ninja Sex Party!" Wilford spoke enthusiastically into the microphone as he stood on set, gesturing wildly to the curtain off to the side of the set as a tall, fluffy-haired man in a far too low-cut ruffled shirt strode on stage with his arms out like he owned the place. The studio audience was going _insane_ ; it was the biggest uproar the mustachioed host had heard in a very, very long time. They shook hands, and then he led Danny over to the chairs at the center of the floor and took a seat after him, smirking as he did.  
  
"I never thought I'd end up on your show, dude! This is UNREAL!" Danny said, eyes lighting up. Wilford chuckled and brushed his unruly bangs out of his face before responding.  
  
"I only do as the people want. Besides, you've made quite the name for yourself lately. I'm actually... _impressed_." He drew out that last word for emphasis, enunciating a little more than normal. "From basement singer to rockstar holding legitimate concerts and tours in a few short years. A real rags to riches story we have here. Plus, your reputation _in the bedroom_. How has the fame been treating you?"  
  
\----------  
  
A few minutes after the show had concluded, Wilford approached Danny, who was flirting with a female member of the show's lighting crew. A double-tap to the taller man's shoulder and he turned around to face Wilford, who looked like the cat that ate the canary. He was up to something, but Danny was oblivious.  
  
"What's up, Warfstache?" Danny asked, confused as to why the esteemed talk show host was catching his attention post-filming.  
  
"I was wondering if you could spare a moment to speak privately in my dressing room backstage. I've got something... personal to ask you."  
  
"Alright? Dunno exactly what the hell can be more personal than some of the shit you asked me during that interview, but I trust you. You seem chill, except for the murder rumors. Of course I live with an unpredictable psychotic ninja so I guess I'm desensitized to any potential murder-happy crazies." Danny was rambling as he followed Wilford to his dressing room, the bright pink door with a faux rose gold name plaque on it much more intimidating than it needed to be. Was something wrong? Did he fuck up? Was Wilford going to murder him and hide the body? Not that the whole murder thing was anything new to him but normally Ninja Brian just kinda left the bodies where the dropped instead of hiding the evidence. Wilford closed the door behind them after they were in the room, and stood in front of Danny with his arms behind his back.  
  
"I've got a proposition for you, Mister Sexbang."  
  
"Please, you can call me Danny. Mister Sexbang is too formal for a fuck machine like me."  
  
"As you wish. Either way, my proposition still stands. And I'd like you to hear me out before rejecting the idea." Wilford had a cunning glint in his eyes, a telltale sign he was plotting something.  
  
"O...kay...?"  
  
"I'm very aware of your reputation regarding your insatiable libido. Perhaps you've also heard of my own?"  
  
"I mean I remember the whole affair thing from when that went down, and the shit about a crossdressing fetish or something but that part could have just been a rumor---"  
  
"No, that was fully correct. But to cut to the chase here, I find you _incredibly attractive._ On top of that, you might be the only person anywhere near here with a libido that can match mine. So here's my proposition: a casual sex relationship between the two of us. No strings attached, no emotional commitment, no monogamy. Just a situation where we just meet up and fuck occasionally should one or both of us need it."  
  
"Excuse me, can you run that by me again so I know I'm not tripping balls over here?"  
  
"I'm suggesting a friends with benefits type of arrangement. We both crave sex more than most people will give us, so it'd be the perfect setup. What do you say, _Danny_?"  
  
"I'm not gay. Or bi. Or whatever. Like if you are that's cool, but I like pussy. Yanno, the pink taco. Cherry chapstick. Baby chute. Not dicks."

"Everyone is a little flexible in their preferences. Come on, at least try it out. I could give you a _sneak peek_ right now if you'd like..." Wilford all but purred, leaning in closer to Danny, whose face was beet red by now. "Your little friend does seem excited by the possibility, after all." He reached down and palmed lightly at the singer's clothed erection, which was straining against his tight pleather pants. "You don't even have to reciprocate. I'll just put my mouth to good use..."  
  
Danny stumbled over his words momentarily, then swallowed and let out a shaky sigh, biting back a noise in the back of his throat that was threatening to surge out. He looked at Wilford, deep magenta eyes looking back up into brown ones, waiting for a cue to continue. Against his better judgement, Danny finally nodded and leaned back against the door to the room, giving Wilford the go-ahead to do as he wished.  
  
Without skipping a beat, Wilford knelt down in front of Danny, fingers quick in working to unsnap and unzip the skinny male's trousers before pulling both those and the thong underneath down mid-thigh simultaneously. Danny's cock sprung from its previous tight confinements, and Wilford licked his lips at the sight. That tongue of his then darted out to lick a long stripe along the underside of Danny's shaft, causing Danny to gasp and produce a noise kept held in his throat only by his want to not be heard from outside the dressing room. Wilford's actions paused a moment, as if he was deciding what to do next, before he teased the slit with the very tip of his tongue. Danny's legs nearly buckled, a more prominent groan making itself heard this time. Wilford had Danny in his hands like putty now, and they _both_ knew it.  
  
Wilford's lips wrapped around the head of Danny's cock, and in response Danny bucked his hips a little, eliciting a pleasurable groan from Wilford. Damn was it good to have an oral fixation in situations like this. He bowed his head forward, taking as much of Danny's shaft into his mouth as he possibly could, and glanced up at the person he was blowing. What a sight he saw, too. Danny's eyes were screwed shut, his shoulders arched back, his head tilted up and resting against the door, and he had a hand held in his curly hair. He was gorgeous and it was obvious he was loving this. Wilford began to bob his head, which drew a beautiful moan unhindered from Danny's throat.  
  
He continued his ministrations, picking up the pace a bit as he did and pulling more sounds from Danny. One of the journalist's hands cupped the rock star's balls to massage them gently, and Danny's thighs started to tremble. Moments later there were fingers in Wilford's hair, tugging ever-so-slightly and bringing Wilford to glance up at Danny again. Danny was looking down at him, biting his lip.  
  
"Wilford, I'm gonna come. Get offa me or I'm gonna bust a nut in your mouth." His words were almost laughable in the way he said them, pinched off in his throat from the restrictions of pleasure's glorious brain fog. Wilford simply hummed low in his chest, hollowed out his cheeks, and deep-throated Danny for good measure. He was starting to palm himself through his slacks now, Danny's erratic pre-orgamsm groans and whines music to his ears. It wasn't long before Danny started mumbling " _I can't- I can't- oh god I'm gonna-_ " rapidly, and he arched his back with a much longer, louder moan than before as thick gobs of hot cum were shot down Wilford's throat. Wilford let out a muffled noise of his own, his own orgasm making a mess of his boxers but he couldn't care much less about that at the moment. He pulled off of Danny's cock, panting lightly and moving a hand to wipe away the trails of saliva that had traveled down his chin, before looking up at the shaking and flustered taller man barely keeping himself held up against the door.  
  
"So... Do we have ourselves a deal?" Wilford's question was met with a tired nod and a mumbled "fuck it fine goddamn that was good." A grin found itself back to the host's lips. "Good. I _knew_ I would be able to convince you..."


	2. A Little Too Excited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford can't keep his mind off of his agreement with Danny. He really needs to learn to be patient.

After he got home and got to bed, Wilford just couldn't get his mind off of Danny and the arrangement they had decided upon. It was torture to have to wait to take advantage of this agreement. Sure, he'd fantasized about sleeping with Danny before and had even gotten off to the thought a few times, but he was so close to making that fantasy a reality now. He was so excited he felt like he might _burst_.

Rolling over in the morning as the sunlight hit his face through the curtains, he let out a groan into the pillow when he felt an unexpected, but not unpleasant, pressure on his groin. Sleepy eyes opened and he shifted to check what in hell was going on, and was met with the realization that apparently his subconscious was just as excited as his conscious mind was. He vaguely recalled his dream, and judging by the twitch he felt in his cock, that was exactly what caused this predicament. This wasn't going away on its own anytime soon, and well, there was nothing wrong with a little morning self-love session, right? He reached over the edge of the bed, feeling around just underneath for the handle of the storage drawer he stored his... _"personal items"_ in. He fumbled a bit for what he was looking for, fishing out a bottle of lube and a moderately-sized vibrator. Sitting up on his knees, he popped open the cap on the lube bottle and squeezed some of it onto his fingers. He leaned forward a little and reached a hand behind him and teased at his hole to spread some of the slick substance against his hole, hissing a little at the coldness of it catching him by surprise. He circled his entrance with a finger and then pressed it in, biting back a whine as he did. God, he was being such a needy bitch. He couldn't be patient and wait to be fucked, could he? No, he had to have something up his greedy ass _right now_. 

It didn't take long for Wilford to decide it was time for a second finger to be added, and after he did he curled those two digits and gasped at the feeling. No matter how many times he'd done this, it always felt just as amazing as the first. He pressed his fingers deeper, ignoring his dripping cock's begging for contact in favor of searching for that little place inside him that'll help him loosen up so much more quickly.

And when he felt that white-hot surge of pleasure he knew he found it, albeit barely since his fingers couldn't _quite_ reach it properly. He wiggled his fingers against that spot, panting and mewling with each brush of his fingertips against the bundle of nerves. It took every ounce of willpower he had to not finger himself to completion once he'd gotten to that point, but he begrudgingly withdrew his fingers and clumsily grabbed for the vibrator he'd set on the mattress. He bit his lip and wiped what remaining lube from his fingers onto the toy, and then squeezed some more lube from the bottle onto his hand so he could coat the thing properly. He brought the toy back to where he'd previously had just his hand, and pressed the tip of it to his entrance. His back arched a bit and pushed the toy into himself, short moans and whimpers falling from his mouth as he leaned forward fully, resting his chest and shoulders against the mattress with his ass up in the air.

Soon, he got the vibrator inserted as far as he could reasonably get it, nestled nicely against his prostate, and after a moment to catch his breath he felt around for the knob at its base and turned it ever-so-slightly to make it come to life inside him. He cried out, high-pitched and desperate, his legs shaking beneath him and his arms tensing up. He instinctively jerked his hips forward in an attempt to get some contact against his cock, but his position prevented any friction from coming to be. His trembling hand turned the knob at the base further to make the toy vibrate more powerfully. In his enthusiasm, he managed to turn the vibrator to its max setting and could just barely force his brain to work well enough to finally move his other hand toward his cock.

Between gasps and whimpered "oh god _please_ right there god _more_ that's _so good_ " he managed to be able to gather the ability to grip his length in his left hand and slowly start to stroke it. He was making a godawful mess and he knew it, his cock dripping an impressive amount of pre-cum to the bedsheets, but he couldn't be damned to care right now with the stimulation of his prostate and dick at the same time. It wasn't too much longer before his vision started to go double and that familiar knot of heat start to build in his abdomen. Maybe it was the excitement of what was in store for him, but he was nearing his climax _so_ much faster than he expected to, the sensations almost overwhelming this time around. Then suddenly, his orgasm ripped through him violently, pulling a scream of pleasure from his throat and leaving the fog to clear out of his head and for his body to be able to register touch again.

No sooner did he get his senses back that he recognized the feeling of the vibrator aggressively buzzing against his hypersensitive prostate and making him squirm. He made a clumsy movement to turn the damn thing off before he passed out from the overstimulation, and collapsed over onto his side and sort of stared into space for a moment before getting his conscious thought back. He looked down at his body and sighed at the absolute mess he'd made of himself, reaching for the box of baby wipes on the nightstand next to his bed so he could at least try to clean himself up a little for the time being until his legs stopped being jelly so that he could take a shower.

His first opportunity to properly fuck Danny could not happen too soon, as far as he was concerned.


	3. Discussion and Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking about boundaries and safewords can get boring, but it's nicer when you have a little romp to look forward to at the end of that, right?

Danny's finger hovered over the "call" button his phone screen for a good two minutes, for probably the fifth time in two days. This wasn't a situation he ever thought he'd be in, and the resulting nerves were seriously starting to show. He chewed a little on the inside of his cheek, internally trying to coach himself into the mindset of "accepting the advances of a journalist who interviewed you and now calling him to tell him you're ready to make use of the agreement you'd had isn't _that_ weird or gay" again. It hadn't worked the first couple times he'd tried it, and it certainly wasn't working now, three days after the encounter that started this mess in the first place. Basically he was gonna have to just grow a pair and actually call Wilford, and he was having trouble growing said pair to do so.

Maybe it wouldn't be as weird as he thought it would end up being. Hell, he'd been in more questionable situations than this before, hadn't he?

"Fuck it," he said, finally tapping the screen before his own thumb could betray him. He brushed his hair away from his ear and brought the phone up to it, taking a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. The ringing on the other end of the line stopped abruptly halfway through a repetition.

"Hello, Warfstache here~" spoke the familiar drawling, sing-songy voice answering the phone.

"Hey, this is Danny. You free?" and the singer's response was about as awkward as he could make it, of course.

"Oh of course. I have _all the time in the world_ to spare for you, Mister Sexbang..."

"Sweet! Uh, I mean, can you come over to my place? I wanna talk about some stuff before we actually make use of this thing you talked me into."

"Oh? Well consider me on my way right now then~"

"Also, pack a bag. Two or three days, maybe. Trust me."

\----------

Wilford rested his weight against his pink, vintage, designer suitcase after ringing the doorbell, other hand resting on his hip. This was the moment he'd been waiting for. Well, almost. He was still fully-clothed right now, but really that was the only problem he had with the current situation. He heard the doorknob turn, and smirked as it opened... To reveal Ninja Brian standing there in all his black-clad, intimidating glory. The silent man scanned over Wilford up and down, almost seeming like he was judging his outfit. Rude.

"BRIAN NO. _YOU_ WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO ANSWER THAT, YOU DIPSHIT!" Danny's voice, accompanying thudding footsteps, could be heard approaching. He tried to slide to a halt, but the socks on his feet wouldn't cooperate with the hardwood flooring and sent him slamming into the wall near the doorway. He tried to salvage it, turning around and leaning against the wall in what was supposed to be a seductive pose, but once again his socks proved to be his nemesis and his feet slid out from under him and put him ass-first onto the floor.

By now Wilford was doubled over laughing so hard he could barely breathe. Brian just turned slightly and looked at Danny.

" _Shut up, Brian,_ " Danny snapped. That just made Wilford laugh harder, and he had to wheeze a little to catch his breath and stop laughing so much so he could breathe properly.

"That was an _impressive_ entrance, Danny! Full of the _flair_ you're so well known for!"

"...Just come in the house please."

"I thought you'd never ask~" Wilford intoned, grabbing his suitcase's handle and rolling it inside behind him. He held a hand out to Danny in an offer to help him up. "Maybe take off your socks before trying to seduce me next time? I don't want you getting hurt for my sake." Danny, who had already yanked off his socks, sighed and took Wilford's hand and accepted the help getting up, shooing Brian away with a wave of his hand (and a raise of Brian's middle fingers). "What was it you wanted to discuss?"

"Boundaries, safewords, things like that. Normal shit, really. That cool with you?"

"Safewords? Are you saying you're _expecting_ bdsm in this arrangement? Because I am more than happy to provide that..."

"I mean, _yeah_ , but also just in case." Danny shrugged, about as nonchalant about bdsm as he could be right now. "Yanno, in case one of us gets overexcited about things and starts going at it a little too much. Better safe than sorry." He sat down on the couch in the living room and patted the spot next to him for Wilford to sit there, which he did.

"Well, I don't have much in terms of boundaries, but how about a traffic light system for safewords? That's what I've always used."

"You act like you're the bdsm expert."

"I bet I can teach you a thing or two."

"Okay, then what do we do about subspace and domspace? How are we going to handle that if it ever happens? Not saying it will or won't, but it could always happen."

"I have no problem with either one, but if one of us catches the other going too far into one of them we should PROBABLY try to bring each other out of it," Wilford said with a little smile, at least glad that they're talking about this beforehand. It was more than he expected or was used to, but it was a nice change of pace from how his fuckbuddies in the past had been.

"Alright what are your opinions on toys?"

"Do you want to look through my suitcase and answer that yourself, sweetlips?"

"...I'll take your word for it."

After about twenty more minutes of talking, Wilford was lying on his back with his head resting in Danny's lap while they continued with their plan-making of sorts.

"You know, for a skinny guy you're a pretty good pillow. Who knew chickenlegs would be comfy?" Wilford gave Dan a mischievous look, and Dan's expression snapped into an unamused one almost immediately. Wilford snorted and laughed while Danny yanked a pillow off of the couch and playfully trying to shove it in Wilford's face as if he was planning on smothering him. Wilford put his hands up to block the pillow, squirming and laughing more. After a moment of that, Danny broke into a fit of giggles too, and both of them were left trying to catch their breath again.

"I think this is gonna turn out to be a great idea," Danny said, voice still punctuated by little bursts of laughter. "You're a pretty chill guy!"

"I told you it would be good for the both of us, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I guess you did. Right before you suddenly decided to give me head."

"Want me to recreate that experience for you a second time in celebration?" Those pretty eyes of Wilford's sparkled and he raised an eyebrow, mouth cocked into a lopsided grin that showed off his canines.

"Actually, I think I have a better idea. Sit up, bubblegum boy," Danny grinned right back at him, moving his hand in a gesture beckoning Wilford to sit back up. Wilford complied, a little confused, until Danny suddenly grabbed him by the wrist and shifted their positions so Danny was lying back against the arm of the couch and Wilford was straddling him. Wilford blushed heavily, surprised by Danny's sudden act of control, but nonetheless he loved it. Then, he felt Danny press his groin upwards against his own, pulling a breathy whine from him and forcing him to place his hands on Danny's shoulders to steady himself.

"Aw, turning to jelly already? I can fix that," Danny cooed, flipping their positions so Wilford was pinned beneath him. A hand slipped under Wilford's shirt, and this was coupled by more movements to grind their clothed erections together. Wilford arched his back a little and bit back some noises it was far too early for him to be making, but Danny clicked his tongue a few times and just rubbed against him more persistently, the hand under his shirt finding its way to a nipple and starting to idly play with it.

Then, to Danny's surprise, Wilford's arms were suddenly around his shoulders and he was matching his grinding motions almost perfectly and just as enthusiastically. One of Wilford's legs moved to hook around behind Danny's back and pulled Danny forward a little to press them closer together.

By now they were both frantically rutting against each other like their lives depended on it, short noises of effort and pleasure echoing slightly around the room.

"H- Hold on, babe..." Danny breathed out, grabbing at the waistband of Wilford's shorts and pulling them and his underwear down just enough to expose his cock. Wilford whined and did the same to Danny's sweatpants, and they both moaned aloud when their now freed erections were hot and bare against each other. Danny grabbed both of their cocks to hold them together somewhat as they both continued rutting against each other, even though the pleasure from not having the boundary of clothing between them made it hard for him to make his hands stay there.

He brought his gaze back to Wilford and just took in how he looked right now. His face was dark pink-red, hair was a mess, his shirt pushed up and exposing his chest rising and falling with every gasping desperate breath he took, his eyes were shut tightly, his jaw slack as he panted and moaned with each glorious feeling of friction that shot through him, and his head tilted back to show off the beautiful curve of his neck. The temptation was just too strong for Danny to not lean down and suck a nice dark mark near Wilford's throat, so that's what he did. Wilford's neck craned back just slightly more and his body tensed up a little, moans and whines getting louder and his hips' movements getting more erratic. Danny made a mental note of Wilford having a sensitive neck, latching onto a different spot and leaving another particularly aggressive hickey there as well. All the sweet noises Wilford was making were pushing Danny closer and closer to the edge the more he heard them, and he had to take his mouth off of the shorter man's neck long enough to warn him about that.

But he didn't get the chance to say anything before Wilford's back arched high and he let out a much louder, higher noise than before as he came hot and heavy across his own chest and on Danny's hands. And that was all it took to drive Danny over the edge as well, his own spunk quickly joining Wilford's in the mess they'd made specifically of him.

They basked in the hot, foggy afterglow for a moment until it wore off, and Danny nipped at one of the hickeys he left to bring Wilford back into reality, causing Wilford to let out a bit of a yelp.

"Yeah, this is _definitely_ a good idea," he said, breathing still a little labored. "You sure as hell proved my skeptic ass wrong." His statement was met with a tired, but satisfied, grin behind a pink moustache. "Now let's get you cleaned up. Being covered in jizz _cannot_ be fun for very long."


	4. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What starts out as Danny's curiosity turns into serious discussion about Wilford's intentions. (note: this chapter is literally just self-indulgent fluff. enjoy!)

"So... Were you serious when you said you packed toys in your suitcase? That's some serious planning on your part if you were serious." Danny sounded incredibly curious, sitting smushed into a beanbag chair. Wilford was in an identical one next to him, and scoffed a little.  
  
"Do I _seem_ like a man who bluffs?" he asked, giving Danny some serious side-eye and raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I dunno, I think I'm gonna have to ask for proof silicone here. Vanilla until proven kinky, dude."  
  
"Fine, you asked for this!" Wilford took a moment to get himself out of his beanbag chair and stride over to his suitcase. He unlatched it, opened it up, and gestured to the collection of various sex gear secured in the net attached to the inside of the lid. "And that's only _some_ of what I have. Didn't have room for all of it in one suitcase~"  
  
"Holy shit alright you made me into a fucking fool with that one. Can I look through them or is that not a chill thing for me to do?" Danny asked, genuinely surprised by now. He'd expected Wilford to have a basic few, but not what could be considered a _collection_. Wilford just rolled his eyes.  
  
"If it wasn't okay then I wouldn't have shown you," he said as he pulled the suitcase over to the two beanbags they were both chilling in and plonked himself back into his previous position. He gestured in a motion to give thr okay to start rummaging, and Danny sat up a little and unzipped the net holding all of it. The first thing he pulled out was a neon pink dildo that was probably close to three inches wide and ten inches long, and he kinda sat there looking at it like he was trying to comprehend the thing before turning toward Wilford with an expression of disbelief.  
  
"Jesus, what kind of demented size queen _are_  you?" he asked, absolutely flabbergasted. "You could _beat_  someone to death with this thing, and you shove it up your ass?!" He waved his hand around with the thing in it for emphasis, and smacked it against the butt of his other hand a little at the word "beat."  
  
"You won't think it's demented when you can fuck me and have a vibrator in there at the same time," Wilford said with a wink. He'd absolutely expected that response out of Danny. People he'd fucked around with in the past almost always ended up either intimidated or freaked out by the massive thing.  
  
"I mean yeah, but is it even going to do anything for _either of us_  when it's just my dick, or is it basically going to be like throwing a hotdog down a hallway?"  
  
Wilford sputtered and busted out laughing. _That_  wasn't something he expected, or even had anyone _consider_ before.  
  
"Danny, I _assure you_ my greedy ass will be just as tight either way. It still takes a little while to stretch me enough to accomodate that thing, I'll have you know!" he said, feigning offense and hurt, looking down and away with his hand on his chest like a high school drama queen. He moved to glance over at Danny again just seconds later. "But I could put on a show with it sometime if you want me to~" he cooed out and winked, pursing his lips. Danny's face flushed red then, the thought of Wilford stetching himself and then fucking himself on that incredibly girthy dildo surprisingly tantalizing to him.  
  
"M--- May--- Maybe awhile _after_ I get to fuck you, alright? I don't want to give myself a complex watching you go crazy on that monstrosity," he kind of stammered out, putting the dildo off to the side a little and reaching back into the suitcase's net. The next thing he pulled out was a little black egg-looking thing with a pull-string on it. He scrunched his nose up in confusion and kinda held it out to Wilford with a look that asked what the fuck that thing was.  
  
"I hope you realize that's not a standalone thing," Wilford said, sitting up and reaching into the net himself, fumbling around for something in particular. "Ah- _ha_!" And as soon as he'd found it, the egg-shaped doodad started pulsing and vibrating like crazy in Danny's hand, catching him by surprise.

"WOAH HOLY SHIT WHAT--- oh it's a bullet vibe," Danny said as Wilford hit a button to turn it off again and rolled his eyes. "Oh zip it, you. I think it was the cord that threw me off. I guess that's the takey-outey string?"  
  
"... _Takey-outey string_."  
  
"Shut up, it's the best I could come up with to call it."  
  
"Well then yes that's exactly what the cord is. A _takey-outey string_. To _takey-outey_ the _vibey-wibey_ from my _booty-wooty_ ," Wilford teased, Danny scowling a little. Wilford patted Danny's hairfloof and smiled. "I was only joking with you. Lighten up!"  
  
For awhile, Danny and Wilford went over the toys and other "accessories" Wilford had stowed away in his suitcase, from a few different vibrators, to a pair of leather handcuffs, to a coil of pink silk rope, to a riding crop and a flogger, to a blindfold and a ballgag. After they'd gone through the entire net, Danny was more than convinced that Wilford was as much of a kinky fucker as he claimed to be.  
  
"I have even more extreme things, and bigger things, back at my condo. You'll just have to stop by sometime so I can give you the full, _sultry_ tour~" Wilford purred out, twirling the handcuffs around the first two fingers on his right hand casually.  
  
"Bigger things? Like _what_?"  
  
"Well for starters, a Sybian and a sex swing."  
  
"Wait hold on back the fuck up. You have a _Sybian_? One of those weird vibrating saddle things? That are expensive as all fuck?"  
  
"I also have the storage case that looks like an ottoman, and a lot of the attachments for it. What's your point?"  
  
"Nothing, I'm just impressed. You might actually be more well-versed than I am in toys."  
  
"Oh? So I've bested the great Sexbang, destroyer of pussy, at his own game?"  
  
"Don't push it."  
  
"You need to learn to take a joke." Wilford stuck his tongue out at Danny and started stowing his toys back into his suitcase where they came from. "Besides, I think it's _better_ to be more versed in relations with people than it is to be well-versed in the inanimate objects you can use to get off." He shrugged and zipped up the net. "That means you get more personal attention from people other than yourself."  
  
"Is that why you brought up this arrangement in the first place? Because you need people-sex and not thing-sex?" Danny asked, raising an eyebrow. Wilford looked back over at him, face more serious than before. "...Did I push a button I shouldn't have there?"  
  
"A bit, but you're not _wrong_. Like I said when I instigated this, very few people are willing to try to match my insatiable sex drive, and even fewer actually _can_ ," he spoke almost deathly calm, latching his suitcase closed and pushing it to the side. "I was aware of your reputation for apparently being another insatiable sex addict, which sparked some interest in the idea since I also find you incredibly attractive. I figured we could both benefit from each others _assistance_ , if you will."  
  
"Sex addict? Is that _really_ the reputation I have? Damn that's a lot less flattering than I thought my rep would be."  
  
"I'm paraphrasing for the sake of comparing you to myself. At worst your reputation labels you as a player."  
  
"Well shit I didn't know you were a sex addict."  
  
"Your first clue should have been when I asked you, a person I barely knew, to be my fuckbuddy with no prior context to the question before I dragged you into my dressing room and gave you a blowjob."  
  
"...Yeah logic would dictate that I should've added one and two together there, huh?" Danny actually felt kind of bad about not picking up on that. "Well point is I'm here to fuck you into oblivion at damn near a moment's notice now, right? You don't have to worry about not having a human to nail anymore, at least." He yanked Wilford over into his beanbag by the arm, and consequently into his lap. Wilford flailed a little in surprise at first but quickly settled down and leaned against Danny.  
  
"I suppose you're right," the mustachioed man said with a sigh. "Just be careful, because I'm likely to jump your bones as soon as you walk through the door eventually. It depends on how long you'd been gone and how long _I've_ had without getting off."

"As long as no one gets hurt unsexily I don't really think I'd mind you jumping my bones as soon as I walk through the door." Danny smirked, a hand slipping just under Wilford's shirt to rest on the bare skin of his waist and rub circles there with his fingertips. "Good _christ_ , your skin is soft," he mentioned offhandedly, the circles his fingers were making turning into languid movements up and down about maybe five inches of Wilford's skin. Wilford relaxed a little and let out a content sigh, enjoying the physical contact for contact instead of arousal.  
  
"Danny, I'd like to make another proposal in addition to what we already agreed on," Wilford spoke. He sounded just a little nervous this time around.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Would affectionate contact be part of this non-monogamous, non-romantic arrangement we agreed on? Still no strings attached, of course. Non-sexual contact might just be a good accompaniment."  
  
"I mean, that's pretty much what we're doing right now, isn't it? The whole 'cuddling without it being a big thing' thing. I have nothing against bros being dudes and cuddling without it being romantic. It's kinda nice actually. A break from trying to rail each other into the next century." Danny answered, about as casual as can be. "We probably _both_ need it, really."  
  
"Good. I'm glad we cleared that up, at least," Wilford said in a much calmer tone, corners of his lips turning up in a smile. Yeah, this arrangement was something he was glad he initiated. Even if it was just for mutual benefit when they needed it.


	5. Morning Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both their morning routines have been interrupted by each others' presence. It's not too bad though. Maybe they can work on a new routine together? (lots of silly shit followed by the smut, I promise)

Danny woke up the next morning tangled together with Wilford in a mess of grabbing limbs. Wilford's face was shoved against Danny's chest, their legs were tangled together, arms wrapped around each other tightly. Apparently they both decided to be clingy sleepers that night. Danny thought to himself that Wilford was actually kind of cute when he slept... And then Wilford let out a loud, ugly snore and enclosed Danny in a deathgrip. Danny wheezed and tried to at least squirm his way into not being prevented from breathing properly, and Wilford groaned, let go, and rolled over, taking the blankets with him. Danny contemplated taking the blankets back for a moment but in the end he decided to just get up, put on some pants, use the restroom, and go to the kitchen to get breakfast.  
  
Ninja Brian was already at the table with a plate of bacon and eggs, a blueberry muffin, a mug of black coffee, and a newspaper. He snapped his head up to look at Danny and track his movements as he walked across the room to the cabinets, then the fridge, and then the pantry. Danny poured himself a glass of orange juice and a heaping bowl of cereal and milk, put the milk and cereal back, and then sat down at the table to eat. Only then did Brian quit staring at him and continue with his own breakfast and newspaper.  
  
"What do you mean we were quiet last night? Did you expect us to drive each other into the floor already?" Danny asked in disbelief, waving his empty spoon at Brian. "...Yeah you're right, we did end up having sex on the couch within an hour of Wilford getting here, but we weren't screaming or anything."  
  
"..."  
  
"Oh shut up I am _not_  that loud!"  
  
"..."  
  
"That was _one time_ , Brian! Why do you keep bringing it up?"  
  
"..."  
  
"Whatever you say, dude. It's not like _you've_ ever fucked me, so how would _you_ know?"  
  
"..."  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
When Danny was about halfway through his bowl of cereal, clumsy footsteps headed down the hallway toward the kitchen he and Brian were in. He looked up to see Wilford walking into the room, a half-asleep bedheaded mess still in his pajamas. His eyes were barely open, and his hair looked like a pair of pigeons had tried to make a nest in it. Danny snorted and got up to guide him around the kitchen to what he needed, since Wilford seemed like he wasn't quite working on autopilot correctly. A minute or two later, Wilford was at the table with a bowl of cereal, a mug of coffee with cream and sugar, and still looking like a total mess.  
  
"Not a morning person?" Danny asked. His question was met with a single grunt, which honestly was as good an answer as a verbal one. "Well alright then. I'll let you drink your coffee until you can function." And Wilford nodded just barely, picking up his mug and taking a sip of the glorious nectar of the gods inside it.  
  
Ever since the debut of his well-known late-night live talk show that aired on the weekends, Wilford had developed into a normally grumpy "not-without-my-coffee" (or _at least_ an orgasm, depending on the day) kind of person in the mornings. The only reason he could get his shit together at home was because he knew where everything was and could run on autopilot until he got enough caffeine in his system to be consciously available. About halfway through his mug of coffee, he finally seemed to be becoming reasonably conscious, at least judging by the fact that he wasn't fumbling around with his eyes mostly closed.  
  
"Rise and shine, bubblegum boy," Danny intoned, waving a hand in Wilford's field of vision to check how awake he was now. Wilford blinked and jumped a little at the sudden thing in his vision, and then realized where he was, what he was doing, and who had just spoken to him.  
  
"Morning..." he responded finally, setting down his mug and stretching his arms above him and then out to the sides in a yawn.  
  
"Were you not even _aware of your surroundings_ until just now?" Danny asked, concern rising in his voice.  
  
"Normal for me," Wilford assured before scooping up a big spoonful of cereal (and why was his bowl half-empty? he didn't usually eat that much while he was still caffeineless) and shoving it in his mouth unceremoniously.

"Well at least I've been able to bear witness to the great Wilford Warfstache before he composes himself for the day. I never would've guessed you're such a hot mess in the morning, like damn."  
  
"The early bird gets the worm, but who the hell wants worms for breakfast?" Wilford said, picking up his coffee mug again and tilting it slightly at Danny before taking another gratuitous sip of coffee. "I'm more of a night owl. Fuck that 'healthy, wealthy, and wise' spiel they all talk about. Nights are _much_ more fun than mornings. Fun is more important that health, in my opinion."  
  
"Amen to that, Wilfs." Danny nodded before picking up his own cereal bowl and bringing it to his face to drink the milk. Wilford looked at him, confused.  
  
"What kind of nickname is _that_?" he asked, resting his chin in his left hand, elbow on the table. "Really? _Wilfs_?"  
  
"It sounded better in my head--- _Shut up, Brian_!" Danny interrupted himself. Brian rolled his eyes, folded the newspaper, shoved it under his arm, and got up from the table to put his dishes in the sink and leave the room again. " _Jesus_ , that guy is a pain in the ass..."  
  
"I still don't understand how you're actually talking with him," Wilford said before knocking back the rest of his coffee and then looking into the mug with disappointment. Coffee was his life force, and it always made him sad when he was finished drinking his morning cup of it.  
  
"It's a learned skill," Danny replied, getting up to put his own bowl and spoon in the sink. He saw Wilford's dispairing look into his now empty mug when he got back to the table. "Do you want another cup of coffee or something? We have plenty of it and it takes like no effort to brew you another cup of the stuff. We have one of those single-cup things." Wilford looked up at him like Danny had just offered him the meaning of life, and held out the mug to him. "I'll take that as a yes. You want to pick out what kind of coffee you want or is pretty much anything good? We have flavored coffees, fancy shit..." He gestured toward the little drawered storage cube on the counter next to the coffeemaker.  
  
"What kind of flavors do you have?" Wilford asked, too lazy to actually get up and look for himself. He was only aware at this point; he didn't have the energy to do much.  
  
"Well there's this ridiculous chocolate bullshit that Brian and I never drink. It's still coffee but it tastes more like a super rich cake."  
  
"I want that. That exact coffee," Wilford said without missing a beat. Coffee that tastes like chocolate cake sounded like his kind of pick-me-up, without a doubt. Danny laughed at the lack of hesitation whatsoever.  
  
"Well alright then." He pulled out one of the little plastic cups from the storage cube, popped it into the machine, set the mug down under the spout, and pressed the button to start up the coffee maker. "I'm gonna take a shower after breakfast. Do you wanna come with, or what?" Wilford straightened up in his chair a little and looked over at Danny in surprise, almost trying to hide excitement at the idea. "I mean, we haven't even seen each other completely naked yet. We've just kinda rubbed dicks. It can't hurt."  
  
Wilford nodded and ran his fingers through his hair a little, realizing he was a disheveled mess right now. His fingers caught in a few tangles and pulled at his scalp, causing Wilford to blush just a little and bite his own tongue to hold back the little whimper that was threatening to come out. Danny noticed, but kept his mouth shut about it. He was planning on having a little fun with this hunch he had. The coffeemaker made a sputtering noise and finished pouring coffee into the mug on its stand, and Danny pulled the mug out from the machine.  
  
"Cream and sugar, right?" Danny asked, opening the fridge to grab the creamer.  
  
"Three sugars, just enough cream to change the color."  
  
\----------  
  
"Just a warning, but I take my showers _way_ too hot," Danny said, turning on the water in the walk-in shower stall. Wilford shrugged in response.

"So do I. That doesn't matter to me." He put his change of clothes on the counter, and hung up his bathrobe on one of the hooks on the wall. He pulled his shirt off while Danny fiddled with the water temperature, and as Danny turned around and started to take off his own pants, Wilford was removing his shorts and underwear. Danny's eyes widened. He'd kind of gathered that Wilford was a little more curvy than many people in terms of his figure, but _damn_  did Danny love the surprise that came in the form of the curves of Wilford's body. He had almost no sharp angles to him aside from his elbows and his jawline. He was _gorgeous_ , and Danny suddenly found himself unable to take his eyes off him.  
  
Wilford stretched his shoulders out, flexing his back muscles a little and still facing away from Danny, unaware that he was being stared at like he was some sort of delicacy. Then suddenly, his asscheeks were grabbed, pulling a startled sound of him.  
  
"Are you enjoying yourself back there?" Wilford asked, turning his head slightly to look at Danny, who had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.  
  
"Couldn't resist. It was _round_ and _right there_ , just _asking_ to be grabbed," Danny rested his chin on Wilford's shoulder for a brief moment, then moved back and pulled Wilford into the shower with him.  
  
"Am I eyecandy to you now?" Wilford purred once they were in the shower stall and the door shut and latched. Hot water cascaded down his body and he let out a happy sigh.  
  
"Maybe, but I can _touch_ the eyecandy for once." Danny had an idea then. "Speaking of touching... How about we wash each other? Yanno, kind of to get used to each others' bodies?" Wilford's expression lit up when Danny made that suggestion.  
  
"Oh, absolutely. Any excuse I can get to have my hands _all over you_ , and the other way around as well~" Wilford swayed his hips a little as he said that.  
  
"I'm washing your hair first, though," Danny interjected, grabbing a bottle of shampoo off of the rack attached to the wall. Wilford pursed his lips stubbornly, but agreed. The journalist closed his eyes tilted his head back into the spray of water, running his fingers through hair to make sure the unruly mass was thoroughly wet. He opened his eyes back up and saw Danny looking at him like a hungry wolf again.  
  
"Are you just going to _stare at me_ all day or are you going to wash my hair like you insisted on doing?" he teased, folding his arms over his chest. Danny snapped out of his daze and squeezed a dallop of shampoo into his hand before placing the bottle back on the rack. He massaged the cleaning goop into Wilford's hair, and Wilford closed his eyes made a content noise. He _loved_ having his hair touched, whether it be getting washed, getting a haircut, being brushed or combed, or even just being played with. It was soothing for him.  
  
"Alright, head back. Rinse time," Danny instructed, and Wilford complied, tilting his head back in the water again while Danny fingers combed through his hair to help get all the shampoo rinsed out. And then, to be a cheeky shit, Danny got a good grip on some of Wilford's hair and pulled it quickly, causing Wilford's knees to almost buckle underneath him. Not only did he love his hair being touched and played with, but he also _loved_ having it _pulled_.

"I _knew it_ ," Danny said, pulling a more firm tension in Wilford's hair, drawing a desperate noise out of him and causing him to have to hold onto the handle on the wall to keep himselc up. Danny was really learning fast how to push his buttons, and Wilford knew it was going to drive him _insane_. He was _already_ notoriously easy to tease because his crazy-high sex drive, and knowing his kinks and sweet spots just made that so much easier to do to him. "I saw what happened when you tried to untangle your hair with your fingers earlier, you _dirty slut_. I might not be smart, but I pay attention..." Wilford whined in the back of his throat when Danny called him a dirty slut, his cock getting excited now along with the rest of him.

Danny let go of Wilford's hair, and Wilford sunk to his knees, shaking a little and letting out little noises thanks to the residual sting from having his hair tugged as firmly as Danny had done to him. His cock stood erect in front of him, but Wilford was too fuzzy-headed from arousal and the heat of the water to really be able to do much about it.  
  
"Sit there and be good while I wash myself, and I'll make this even more fun for you, okay?" Danny asked, reaching down and tilting Wilford's head up by the chin to face him. Wilford nodded, but then Danny paused a moment and pulled on Wilford's arm to get him to stand up. "On second thought, sit on the little bench against the wall there. You'll have a better view of me." Wilford whined because he couldn't get all handsy on Danny like he wanted to, and Danny raised an eyebrow. "Why are you whining? You wanna touch me?" Wilford responded by nodding. "Use your words, Wilford."  
  
"I wanna touch you _so bad_..." Wilford was damn near begging now, and Danny got more aroused by that, cock standing firmly against his stomach now. "Please let me..." Wilford's hands were shaking in desperation, and the tone in his voice convinced Danny to give in.  
  
"Alright, fine. You can touch me all you want, as long as you help wash me like you said you would." Danny handed Wilford the bottle of shampoo and knelt down to make it easier for Wilford, who was shorter by a good five inches, to be able to wash his hair.  
  
The rest of the shower as it was ended up being more sensual and grabby than anything, and they both ended up getting clean by some miracle of fate requiring they don't try to get themselves or each other off. However, once they were both properly rinsed off and Danny was about to turn and shut off the water, Wilford decided to get frisky. In the blink of an eye, Danny had been shoved back-first against the wall of the shower, and Wilford's mouth was latched onto his collarbones, biting and suckling in a way that made Danny gasp and his neck to crane to the opposite side to give Wilford more access. Wilford growled and started kissing and nipping along Danny's chest, trying to take control before he could be made into Danny's bitch again. Danny's fingers grabbed at some of Wilford's hair and pulled harshly, ripping that dominance out of him as suddenly as it had come on and making Wilford weak in the knees again.  
  
"Am I gonna have to punish you for that?" Danny asked, turning Wilford away from him and pinning him to the wall. He bit down hard on the junction between Wilford's neck and shoulder, and Wilford let out a beautiful noise somewhere between a moan and a whine. He grabbed a handful of one of Wilford's asscheeks with the hand not currently being used to push him against the wall, and then pulled back and slapped the tender flesh there. Wilford squirmed and wimpered, pushing his ass back a little in a way that practically asked for another smack. And Danny did just that, delovering a few more slaps to Wilford's asscheek, each one a little harsher than the one before it. Wilford was shaking a little, somewhat dazed from the rough treatment it had been so long since the last time he'd experienced.  
  
Moments later, Danny guided him back over to the little seat attached to the wall and had him kneel down facing it and resting his arms on it. Hands caressed Wilford's body, from his shoulders and biceps, traveling down his torso and across his waist and hips, finally to rest on his thighs and squeeze them. Wilford's thighs were pressed together and he was leaned slightly forward against the seat in front of him, his position showing off the curve of his lower back and his ass very nicely.  
  
"Do you want me to fuck your thighs, Wilford? Your thick, beautiful legs of yours are just _begging_ to have my cock sliding between them..." Danny murmured in Wilford's ear, pressing his chest and stomach flush against Wilford's back and being absolutely sure his hard-on was pressed against Wilford's ass. A shiver escaped the shorter of the two, and he nodded. "Good boy."

Danny moved back from Wilford just long enough to position his cock at the junction between Wilford's ass and thighs, and he just as quickly sunk his length between the other man's soft, gorgeous legs. Arms wrapped around Wilford's waist as Danny thrust between his legs feverishly, essentially humping him like a horny dog. Wilford made short, sharp noises that echoed through the bathroom, one after the other with every movement Danny made against him. God, he needed friction against _some_ part of him that would help get him off right now, and quietly he started to plead for Danny to just _touch_ him, oh god _please_ he wanted to cum _so badly_ , rutting his hips desperately back against Danny's and bowing his head down subconsciously.  
  
Danny seemed to pick up on the hint after not too long, a hand moving downwards to grasp Wilford's dick, which was already leaking precum down itself and making a mess. The other hand moved up to grab a fistful of his hair again and tug at it, making Wilford choke out a mewl, bring his head back up again, and his shoulders to come back somewhat.  
  
Danny started jerking Wilford at the same pace he was fucking his thighs at, and Wilford started bucking his hips wildly and whimpering out plea after plea for more, for _harder_ , for **_faster_**. His eyes rolled back and his mouth hung open, more moans and cries spilling out of him and getting louder and more needy as he neared his climax. Danny could feel Wilford's thighs start to twitch, and in a last effort to bring him to his orgasm, he gave his hair one more firm tug.  
  
That was what sent Wilford careening over the edge, a loud cry escaping him as his whole body tensed up and he came hard in Danny's hand. A few thrusts later and Danny reached his climax as well, shooting his load between Wilford's thighs.  
  
They came down from the pleasure-high together, Wilford slumped forward against the seat he remained propped up against and Danny practically crumpled over on top of him like a skinny person-shaped blanket. Breathing evened out, and awareness came back to the fact that they still had the shower going and available to help them rinse off the mess they'd made of each other. They helped each other regain their footing and stumble out of the shower to grab two towels and sit on the floor where they didn't have to worry so much about their still-recovering legs giving out underneath them. They finally motivated themselves to get dressed, hair was brushed and blowdried (Wilford _especially_ enjoyed this part), and they headed out of the bathroom to figure out what to do for the rest of the day. But before they got out of the room, Danny gave Wilford a firm smack to the asscheek and squeezed, _just for good measure_.


	6. Boring Thursday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's never anything worth doing happening on a rainy Thursday afternoon. Wilford and Danny will just have to keep themselves entertained then, won't they?

Danny was lounging on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table as he channel-surfed, looking for something to watch. There was never anything worth watching in the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday unless you were into infomercials, soap operas, golf, or shows about animal control folks and the poor pets they have to rescue from shitty situations. Soon, he felt a chin rest on the top of his head, and the front of his hair rustled from a rush of air caused by an indignant huff.

“You bored too?” Danny asked, and got a groan in response. “Yeah I thought so.”

“Ugh, why is there nothing to _do_ today?”  Wilford asked, moving from his position with his chin on top of Danny’s head, favoring instead to lay dramatically over the back of the couch. “And it’s raining outside, so we can’t exactly go anywhere without getting _soaked_.” He made it very clear he was not a happy camper right now. “I kinda want to bother Ninja Brian. Where is he?”

“I have no idea where Brian is, but if I did I would _not_ advise bothering the hell out of him. He will absolutely stab you to death,” Danny cautioned. Brian was probably skulking around the house somewhere, but who the fuck knows where at this point.  Wilford made a pensive sound, and then climbed over the back of the couch to sit on it upside-down. “I also wouldn’t advise having all the blood rush to your head. Yes we’re both bored as fuck, but brain damage is not the answer.”

“I’m trying to make myself think of what to do,” Wilford said in return, but swung his legs off of the back of the couch and sat up properly. “Wanna fuck?” he suddenly asked after a moment, and Danny blinked a few times in surprise.

“Well _you’re_ forward today, aren’t you?”  he asked 

“Aren’t I always?” Wilford leaned on Danny’s shoulder, giving him a cheeky little smirk. Then quickly he got up. “Stay here. I’m gonna go get something out of my suitcase.” He scampered off to Danny’s room, where he was also staying while he was at the house.

“It’s the lube, isn’t it? You know I have _plenty_ of that in my nightstand, right? Condoms, too!” Danny called after Wilford, who poked his head back out from the hallway and gave Danny a thumbs up.  He heard muttering from down the hall after a moment, and then Wilford came padding back down the hallway into the living room carrying the bottle of lube from Danny’s nightstand and a purple condom in a clear wrapper (which meant it came out of the nightstand as well, since Danny had a rainbow assortment of colorful condoms in there). “Sweet, you actually got the stuff out of the nightstand!”

“I trust your judgement. Besides, I forgot to bring condoms with me and would’ve had to ask about that anyways,” Wilford said, walking up to the couch, putting the lube and condom onto the table, and climbing into Danny’s lap to straddle him and rest his hands on the taller man’s shoulders. They both had a pink blush across their cheeks, and they seemed hesitant for a split-second before the temptation to smash their lips together took over. They made out clumsily and over-excitedly, a mess of lips and tongue and teeth and clinging to each other for dear life. Wilford’s arms were wrapped around Danny’s neck, and Danny’s arms around Wilford’s waist to slide hands under his shirt and up his back to his shoulderblades. They broke for air, and Danny took the opportunity to slip Wilford’s shirt up over his head, and then to change the position they were in to pin Wilford down onto the couch. Lips connected again and Wilford’s hands found their way into Danny’s thick, curly hair. Danny broke the kiss again after a moment and attacked Wilford’s collarbone and upper chest with kisses and little nips with his canines. Soon, his hands were drifting toward Wilford’s hips and slipping under the waistband of his sweatpants. Wilford responded by lifting his hips and allowing Danny to pull his pants off. That article of clothing was soon reunited with Wilford’s shirt on the floor in front of the couch, and the two men on the couch were back to making out.

Danny scooted his hips a little closer to Wilford’s and lifted the shorter male’s hips to rest against his own. Wilford’s legs hiked up a little to rest at Danny’s waist, and he pressed his own hips back against Danny’s groin, managing to draw a strangled noise from him into the kiss.  Lips parted again, and Wilford gazed up at Danny, eyes half lidded.

“Take off your clothes too, Danny… Please...” he whined, moving his hands to pull at Danny’s shirt in an attempt to coax him to take that off at least. Danny obliged, sitting up for a moment and pulling the article of clothing off of him and dropping it into the pile on the floor. And to Wilford’s surprise, Danny’s pants and underwear soon followed, leaving him naked and above him. Wilford’s face turned a much darker shade of red than it had been before, and soon Danny was pulling at _his_ underwear this time. It took no time for Wilford to agree to having them shucked off of him, and they were both completely bare and back to their previous activity of aggressively tongue-kissing each other.

D anny blindly reached over to the table where the lube was and grabbed it,  popping the cap open with his thumb and pulling his lips away from Wilford’s just enough to be able to speak.

“You ready for this?” he asked quietly, earning a nod from Wilford. Danny swapped which hand the bottle was in, squirted a good amount of the slick, sticky liquid onto his right fingers and then scooted back a little from Wilford so he could access where he needed to. His fingers rubbed gently at Wilford’s entrance, spreading a little of the lube there and trying to get Wilford to loosen up a little bit, and then he pressed a single digit in. Wilford’s hips twitched a little and he bit back a whimper, wanting so much more than just a finger already but knowing they couldn’t rush through this too much without ending up regretting it immensely. When Danny started thrusting that digit in and out of him, Wilford loosened up damn near immediately, hips arching up off the couch cushions a little. Danny took that as a cue to slip a second finger into Wilford’s hole, and Wilford’s breathing got a little heavier when he did. God, this was what he’d been anticipating since Saturday night when he confronted Danny about this proposal, but being in the situation finally had him feeling light-headed. It was surreal in a sense, even.

Danny’s fingers scissored inside him and thrust even deeper, and Wilford keened loudly because he felt fingertips brush against his prostate  just enough to have him seeing sparks. He rocked his hips against Danny’s hand, and he was met by a third finger being shoved into him. By now, Wilford was almost panting, his short, heavy breaths were punctuated by whimpers and moans. Danny spread those three fingers and  pulled a long whine out of Wilford.

“Danny, please… Please fuck me… I’m ready for it just _please_...” he begged, looking Danny in the eyes. Danny bit his lip and nodded, pulling his fingers out of Wilford  in favor of reaching for the condom still lying on the table, and getting a desperate mewl from the person currently pleading to be fucked. He used his non-lubed fingers to hold the plastic square up to his teeth and tear it open, pulling the rubber circle out of its wrapper once it was open and tossing the wrapper back onto the table. He kind of fumbled with the condom for a moment before managing to get it onto his dick properly. More lube was squirted into his hand and he spread it on his dick, making sure to get plenty of it on the head where it would be needed the most. He gripped Wilford’s legs behind his knees and pushed them toward his chest a little. “Please Danny… _Please_ Danny please _I need you_...” Wilford whimpered.

Danny nudged his hips forward and pressed his cock into Wilford’s hole. Wilford’s breath hitched in his throat, and Danny gasped at the feeling of being inside him like this. Ever-so-slowly he eased further into Wilford, making sure to keep track of how his breathing was so he knew just how well he was responding to the feeling. Wilford’s hands shot up and gripped at Danny’s shoulders in a desperate attempt to have something to ground him and keep him from losing his mind from the situation. He still couldn’t believe this was happening ; it was too amazing to believe right now with his brain fogged up with arousal, pleasure, and… Something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but that wasn’t important right now. Danny bottomed out in him, and Wilford babbled out something incoherently, so full of dick right now that he wasn’t entirely sure how to make his brain work properly. Danny stilled momentarily, drinking in the feeling of this before actually moving, and also waiting for Wilford’s breathing to even out somewhat.  When it did, Danny pulled his hips back and then rolled them forward into Wilford again, tentative at first to be sure Wilford wasn’t in any kind of discomfort. Reassurance came in the form  of a choked-up moan and the sensation of fingernails digging into his shoulders.

He repeated his movements with more confidence that he wasn’t hurting Wilford, and then he had Wilford’s arms wrapped back around his neck. Danny bowed down to nip and suck at Wilford’s collarbones again, leaving a few hickies in his mouth’s path, and then decided to kiss him again. This time the kiss was a lot more passionate  and sensual than just wanting to suck face for the hell of it. Danny nibbled at Wilford’s lower lip, and Wilford  moaned from the extra sensations he was getting from that. Wilford whined and parted from the kiss by an inch or two.

“Faster… Please faster more _please Danny_...” he managed to say, barely understandable between gasps and moans and through how strained his voice was to begin with.  Danny reconnected the kiss and sped up the pace of his thrusts. Wilford’s legs wrapped around Danny’s waist, heels digging into his lower back and tugging him closer, and his arms moved back to around Danny’s neck. He was clinging to the taller, skinnier man for dear life, and he didn’t care how needy it made him seem.

Suddenly, his grip on Danny tightened and he keened loudly into the kiss as the head of Danny’s cock glanced off his prostate. Danny adjusted the angle he was thrusting into Wilford at, and he felt hands scrabbling across his back for something to grip better. Wilford broke out of the kiss to throw his head back and cry out, seeing double from the onslaught of pleasure from having that sensitive little pocket inside him being repeatedly rammed into. His breathing was getting more erratic and his noises more frequent, and the beautiful reactions he was giving  were bringing some more out of Danny as well. He’d been trying not to be as vocal as he usually was (and he was definitely a vocal lover) but Wilford’s inhibitions about his own noises brought out Danny’s inhibitions as well. Danny groaned, moaned, and grunted with effort as he thrust harder and faster into Wilford, getting closer and closer to his climax with each one.

The familiar needy pool of heat was pooling in Wilford’s abdomen as well, and he whined long and desperate as he rocked his hips back to meet Danny’s thrusts. He tried to speak, but all that really came of that was some breathy, incoherent sounds sounding somewhat similar to “please,” “more,” and “close.” Danny’s hands moved to pull Wilford closer against him, and because he wasn’t paying as much attention to his hands as he was to his crotch, his left hand found its way into Wilford’s hair and grabbed, causing just enough tension to make Wilford arch his back off the couch and cum forcefully across his stomach and chest, some of the white sticky mess managing to get on his chin as well. Wilford tightening around Danny’s cock drew out a loud moan from the rock star, and a few uneven thrusts after that he reached his climax too.

It took every ounce of willpower and consciousness Danny still had in him to not collapse on top of Wilford then and there, but he did end up leaning sideways against the back of the couch, spent for the moment. He got his thought processes back relatively quickly and pulled out of Wilford before peeling off the condom and tying off the open end. He looked over the couch arm behind him and dropped the condom into the wastebasket there, and then got the chance to see the state Wilford was in.

Wilford was flushed all over, from his face, to his shoulders, to his chest and hips, to even his knees. He was panting, staring unfocused at the ceiling, and the aftershocks he was getting because of that intense prostate orgasm leaving him whimpering quietly and his body shaking. His chest, splattered with his own spunk, rose and fell with every deep breath he took. He was absolutely  _wrecked,_ and Danny was actually pretty proud of himself for causing that. Danny convinced his legs to work, and got up to go fetch a damp washcloth to clean up the barely-conscious mess that was Wilford Warfstache. He got back and started to wipe some of the cum off of Wilford’s torso and chin, and Wilford shivered every time he got touched, even if it was just a warm washcloth cleaning him off.

Finished with the duty of making sure Wilford wasn’t a complete mess anymore, Danny wiped the remaining lube residue off his own fingers, went back to the bathroom to toss the washcloth into the sink for now, and came back to the living room to keep Wilford company. He thought for a moment, and then hoisted the rag doll dead-weight of a man on the end of the couch over to him and held him against his chest, leaning back against the other arm of the couch and deciding to just cuddle with Wilford until he finally came back down from the foggy intense pleasure-high he was stuck in right now. They were naked and sweaty post-fuck, but despite that, it was pretty nice.


	7. New Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford is stressed and angry, and needs a way to get rid of this terrible tension. What better way to do that than to fuck someone so hard they can't see straight?
> 
> (note: very aggressive Wilford at the beginning, some threats, and some mild knifeplay, but otherwise we're good here)

Danny and Wilford didn’t see much of each other for a few days, what with Wilford having to deal with his show on Friday and Saturday. They sent each other the occasional text or Snapchat message, but other than that there really wasn’t much between them until about nine in the morning on Sunday. Danny was watching one of his Sunday morning TV shows when his phone buzzed and started blaring the ringtone he had set for Wilford’s contact (specifically, a clip of the song “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry). Danny turned the volume on the TV down and answered the phone, kind of baffled because the three days Wilford was over there he hadn’t been up and moving around until at least ten on any given morning, and had been assured that was completely normal for him. He barely got out half of a hello before he heard what almost sounded like a growl from the other end of the line.

“You. My condo. _Now_ ,” Wilford said, voice gruff and angry. “You remember the address I gave you, right?”

“Yeah? Why are you---”

“No questions. Just hurry up.”

Wilford hung up before Danny could get another word in edgewise. The notion of the journalist being in a bad mood had him kind of nervous, for lack of a better word. He was very aware of how unpredictable Wilford was regarding things like murdering people, and while it didn’t usually bother him when the person was Ninja Brian, the idea of Wilford snapping and murdering the shit out of him was terrifying. Either way, he decided it would probably be a good idea to actually comply with what Wilford wanted, so he quickly hurried to throw on some semi-normal clothes, let Brian know where he was disappearing to (and telling him to send a search party if he isn’t heard from in 24 hours) and get himself in the car and headed to Wilford’s condo.

Danny’s hands were shaking as he drove, but despite the mild terror building in his gut, the thought of the potential danger he could be in at the hands of an angry Wilford Warfstache was actually sort of… Arousing? He shivered a little, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as he waited for a stoplight to turn green. He breathed out the lungful of air he had apparently been holding in and continued the rest of the drive. Thankfully it wasn’t much longer than a ten minute drive from his house to Wilford’s, but the suspense and anxiety made it feel like an hour. He finally got to the condo complex and to the correct place, parked his car in the driveway next to Wilford’s pink Mercedes, and approached the front door. He rang the doorbell, and it was maybe two seconds until Wilford opened the door. And boy did he look like hell. He was disheveled, he looked angry and exhausted, and he was only partially-dressed, wearing a pair of boxers and not much else.

Not feeling like tolerating the awkward silence of Danny not knowing how to respond to the situation, Wilford grabbed Danny by the front of his shirt and yanked him inside. The door was slammed shut, and Danny was shoved against the wall next to it before being kissed roughly enough to actually hurt a little. Wilford’s hands were already all over him, one being shoved into his sweatpants to grope at his crotch (speaking of, when did he get a boner? He wasn’t aware of that happening…) and the other one pushed the front of his shirt up and started toying one of with his nipples. Danny broke the kiss with a breathless gasp, and was met with a _growl_ from Wilford. Danny looked at the shorter man, and the sight he saw was both terrifying and arousing. Those pretty magenta eyes of his were darkened with rage and lust, and a tooth-bearing scowl played across his lips. Wilford’s hands withdrew from Danny’s body, and he pulled Danny by the wrist toward the stairs and then up them.

“What has gotten _into_ you, dude?” Danny asked, almost panicking. “I mean, not that I’m not into it or anything because I am _absolutely_ into it but holy shit who shoved a hornets’ nest up your ass---” He was cut off when they got to Wilford’s bedroom and Danny was shoved onto the bed in there. After Danny had a moment to kind of absorb the situation, Wilford was kneeling over him, one hand planted firmly next to Danny and the other behind Wilford’s back.

“I’m stressed. I didn’t sleep  _at all_ last night. I need to take it out on something. _Got it_?” Wilford flicked out the blade of a pocketknife he’d been holding behind his back and touched the tip of it to the soft spot underneath Danny’s chin just enough to make a pressure indent but not enough to break the skin at all. Danny’s face turned beet red and holy shit he was rock-hard now what the fuck was _wrong_ with him? Why was he turned on by a threat to kill him? Wilford noticed Danny’s erection straining in his pants _very_ quickly and raised an eyebrow with a devilish smirk, the hand previously planted next to Danny moving to grip and palm at the skinny man’s crotch through his clothes. “Do you _like it_ when I threaten to slit your throat? That’s _cute_...”

Wilford pulled his knife back and sat up a little, straddling Danny’s legs now. He held the handle of the knife and pressed his fingertip into the pointy end of the blade a little, looking at what he was doing thoughtfully. Then he glanced at Danny, his expression calmly maniacal.

“Have you ever taken it up the ass?” he asked. Danny kind of looked off to the side a little, not answering until Wilford brought the flat side of the knife against his chin and forced him to make eye contact. “ _I asked you a question_.”

“I--- I had a girlfriend who was super into pegging once, so---”

“Good. That’s all I needed to know,” Wilford got up from the mattress, and impressively enough, Danny didn’t move to get up at all. “Don’t you think it’d be so much _nicer_ to have a real flesh-and-blood cock ramming you into the mattress instead?” He spoke as he opened a closet door, showing off a tall stack of plastic drawers and an over-the-door shoe holder, all full of various toys and other sex paraphernalia. He opened a mid-level drawer and rummaged through it for a moment, searching for something in particular, and then walked back over to the bed, where Danny still hadn’t moved from his spot. “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you this time. You just have to be a good boy.”

Danny swallowed hard and nodded his head. He had no idea why Wilford was so damn hot when he decided to take control like this, but he wasn’t arguing it.

“What were you taking out of that drawer over there?” he asked, voice shaky from both nervousness and excitement.

“I have a certain kind of lube I keep in there that I want to use today. Don’t worry about it yet,” Wilford responded, taking his boxers off to expose himself completely. Danny licked his lips as Wilford crawled on top of him again and started attacking his neck with bites and kisses. Wilford pulled back and motioned for Danny to take his shirt off, which was quickly complied to, and then Wilford moved to slide Danny’s pants and underwear off as well. Wilford then made quick work of leaving a trail of kisses and bites down Danny’s torso, earning little gasps and held-back noises from him and resulting in Danny’s hands grabbing the sheets for dear life. Wilford glanced upwards at Danny briefly before licking a languid stripe up Danny’s cock. He grinned and pulled the head into his mouth, earning a whine and a moan from the taller man. He licked and sucked at Danny’s cock like some sort of popsicle for just long enough to start to drive him crazy, and then pulled off with a pop, licking away a bead of precum left on his lips. “I can’t let you finish _already_ , Danny. We haven’t gotten to the good part yet~”

Danny felt a cool metal edge press against his lower abs, and he had to fight the urge to buck his hips so he wouldn’t end up getting filleted open. Of course, Wilford had the back of the pocketknife’s blade pressed against Danny’s skin in case one or both of them got a little too excited, but Danny didn’t need to know that, right? Wilford had him under control, and it was getting them _both_ riled up. The feeling of metal went away, and Danny heard a cap pop open followed by… the smell of strawberries and whipped cream? What in the world was that smell coming from?

“ _Oh my god that’s fuckin’ cold_!” Danny’s train of thought was ripped from him when he felt Wilford’s fingers, cold and slippery, press against his entrance and rub little circles around the ring of muscle there. Then he felt a finger intrude into him, and he made a surprised noise that hitched in the back of his throat. Hazel eyes opened to look at what the hell was going on, and he was met with the sight of Wilford over him again, a shit-eating grin on his lips. He didn’t even have to say anything to get the message of self-satisfaction across. Wilford thrust that finger inside of Danny to work him open a little, and Danny started to notice a tingling sensation that he wasn’t used to feeling up his ass. “Oh my god did you use _warming lube_?” he asked, breathless as the tingly warm feeling got more prominent. The only response he got from Wilford was a low laugh and a more enthusiastic movement of his fingers. Danny shuddered and shook his hips a little, and Wilford took that as a signal to push a second finger in now.

Danny was making beautiful noises Wilford definitely hadn’t heard from him before, nor expected to hear anytime soon. Hips bucked back as Wilford finger-fucked Danny until he’d gotten a third finger in and Danny was practically _begging_ for more already, the lube doing its job in making it even easier for him to turn into a needy bitch pleading for Wilford’s cock. Wilford opened the drawer underneath the side of the bed and blindly fished out a condom, opening it up and pulling it on as soon as he’d gotten it up to the top of the mattress with him. He needed to have Danny writhing beneath him as soon as he possibly could, and that need showed with how clumsily he coated his cock in the same warming lube he’d used to prep Danny open with. He wouldn’t be able to feel it himself thanks to the condom, but Danny’s response would be so worth that deprivation. He hoisted one of Danny’s legs up so his knee was over Wilford’s shoulder, and nestled the head of his cock against Danny’s entrance, rubbing to tease him for a moment. When Danny started whimpering out pleas for him to just _fuck him, already_ , Wilford pushed into Danny, slowly at first to let Danny get somewhat accustomed to it since he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this yet. Danny’s mouth hung open a little and his chest heaved with his breaths as he tried to get used to the sting of being full of cock.

Wilford’s hand ghosted across Danny’s chest in an attempt to ground Danny somewhat. Danny’s breathing evened out a little, and Wilford pushed the rest of the way into him until their hips were flush against each other.

“Stoplight, babe,” he said, brushing his fingertips across Danny’s throat to catch his attention. Danny took a moment to actually make his brain send words to his voice box and out of his mouth, but once he did he managed to croak out something that sounded like the word “green.” Wilford nodded, pulled back, and then thrust forward shallowly to test the waters and make sure Danny was still at least some semblance of okay. Danny’s hands practically launched from their place grabbing the covers and his arms wound around Wilford’s ribcage to cling to him. Wilford took that as a signal that it was okay to stop being so gentle in his movements then, and his thrusts got harder and faster into Danny, drawing more sounds out of Danny. Wilford started to make his own pleasured sounds too, grunting with effort and occasionally moaning too from how _hot_ and _tight_ Danny was and how _amazing_ it felt.

Before long, Wilford was frantically pounding Danny into the mattress, Danny was clinging to Wilford like he’d fall into the void otherwise, and they were both making a chorus of moans and cries that filled the room alongside the obscene slapping of skin on skin. Wilford felt Danny’s fingernails scraping along his shoulderblades and shivered, knowing that was going to leave marks on his back and _loving it_ . Wilford shifted a little and Danny practically sobbed out a plea for him to _do that again, oh god please_ as Wilford rammed directly into his prostate. Wilford wanted to hear that particular sound more, so he adjusted his angle to keep hitting that bundle of nerves and what might as well be some sort of sex magic. God, as someone who used his voice for a living, Danny sure as hell made some great sounds while he was being fucked absolutely senseless.

Wilford felt the knot in his gut tightening and moved to start stroking Danny’s cock with the hand that he wasn’t currently using to steady himself and keep the angle he was pounding into him at. Danny’s breath was getting shorter and heaver, punctuated by whimpers as he rocked his hips back against Wilford desperately in the sheer need to just have his orgasm already before he got driven insane by the overwhelming sensations of being railed into the next century, the warming lube damn near making his whole body feel hot now, and with being jerked off all at the same time. Wilford ducked his head forward to bury his face against the crook of Danny’s neck, trying as hard as he could to hold back his own climax so at least he could drive Danny to his. And as if on cue, Danny arched up, clung much tighter than before, and cried out Wilford’s name as he finally hit his climax. That was all it took to drive Wilford over the edge too, an intense feeling of sparks shooting up his spine as he involuntarily bit down at the nape of Danny’s neck and came as well.

It took close to ten minutes before either of them were clear-headed enough to even _consider_ getting themselves cleaned up, but the first thing Wilford noticed once he could make his brain do think good was that all that anger and tension was pretty much _gone_ now. Turns out he was right about just needing someone to take it out on, after all.

“Thank you _so much_ for that, Danny,” he said, still having trouble trying to find purchase for words. “I needed that more than you understand.”

“Me too, Wilford… _Holy shit_...”


	8. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford mentions being suddenly free on Saturday evening, so he and Danny make plans to go out.
> 
> (note: this is a short expositional chapter of pure fluff and some actual plot-related stuff)

A couple hours after Wilford practically fucked the life out of Danny, the two of them were lounging on the couch in Wilford’s living room and watching TV. Wilford was leaning against the arm of the couch with Danny leaning back against his chest, Danny was wearing one of Wilford’s favorite shirts, and they were both generally pretty content with what they were doing right now.

“What had you so stressed earlier, anyways?” Danny asked, tipping his head back to look at Wilford. Wilford pursed his lips a little before sighing and deciding to answer.

“I got told last night after my show that my time slot on the network is getting taken over by some charity auction next Saturday,” he said with a huff. “The fact that they didn’t let me know before then is what had me so pissed-off and stressed that I couldn’t sleep, and the lack of sleep just made it worse.”

“Holy shit dude that sucks a big load of monkey balls. Why didn’t they tell you earlier than last night?”

“Fuck if I know! I _tried_ asking that and I didn’t get an answer  from anyone!” Wilford exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his right hand while his left arm was still wrapped around Danny’s waist. He brought his arm back down and wrapped it back around Danny again before burying his face in Danny’s curly hair with a groan. “Being on TV _sucks_ , Danny. Don’t start a network show. You’ll thank me later,” he mumbled into the thick curls. Danny reached a hand back to pat him on the head awkwardly.

“I’m fine doing stage performances. TV is too structured for me,” he assured Wilford. “But if you’re free next Saturday night, why don’t we go do something? Better than you not knowing what to do with yourself because your schedule got fucked. No idea what we’d do, but something at least.” He shrugged a little and Wilford looked back up from Danny’s floof, resting his chin on top of Danny’s head now instead. A moment of thinking later, Wilford made an “ah-ha” noise.

“I have an idea!” he said, expression brightening. “There’s a nightclub downtown I go to a lot. Do you want to go with me on Saturday?”

“What club is it?” Danny asked, a little confused because Wilford didn’t exactly seem like the club-going type.

“Ocean Dragon. Why?”

“Isn’t that place _crazy busy_ on Saturdays , dude?”

“Not as busy as you’d think. Yeah, the place is usually packed on Saturday nights, but it’s tolerable,” Wilford said with a shrug. “Besides, clubs are more fun when they’re crowded, aren’t they? More people to show off and make a fool of yourself in front of.”

“Yeah that _is_ true. How long have you been going to clubs and bars, anyways?”  Danny questioned. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who enjoys that kind of scene.”

“I got accustomed to _that kind of scene_ when I started college, thank you very much. But that’s a story for another day. I’m too tired to go through _that_ catastrophe today.” Wilford yawned  after he spoke, the lack of sleep finally starting to set in by way of sleepiness instead of irritation. It was starting to get difficult to keep his eyes open now, and Danny noticed.

“Wilford, do you want to take a nap or something? I didn’t sleep great over the weekend either so I’m not going to complain---” Danny was interrupted by Wilford scooting him over and standing up, hoisting him over his shoulder in the process. “ _Why do you feel the need to carry me everywhere today_ _?!_ ”

“You looked like a newborn giraffe trying to get down the stairs earlier. I’m not letting you walk around until your ass and legs stop hurting,” Wilford responded, hauling Danny upstairs with him.

“Yeah, and whose fault is _that_ , huh? I’m not the one who was pissed-off and needed to rail someone so hard they forgot their name.”

“Sorry, not sorry.”

“Oh fuck you.”

“Maybe tomorrow. For now, we both need to rest.”

Wilford carried Danny into the bedroom and placed him gently on the foot of the bed before pulling the covers back, stripping down  to his underwear , climbing in bed, and patting the space next to him for Danny to crawl over next to him.  Danny rolled his eyes, took off his pants, and crawled over next to Wilford, pulling the sheets and duvet over the both of them once he got himself hunkered down. He was immediately pulled flush against him in the warmest, most affectionate snuggle he’d ever experienced from another human being. It was actually pretty nice, so Danny decided to wrap his arms around Wilford too and return the cuddle.

“I can’t believe you have a canopy bed,” Danny teased, closing his eyes and smiling a little. He felt Wilford smile too, heard a little chuckle from him, and then it wasn’t long before they fell asleep holding onto each other for little other than the pure comfort of being able to hold onto someone.


	9. Oxygen Not Required

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny discovers just to what extent Wilford is willing to be used and abused by a lover, and frankly it scares the everloving hell out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: this chapter contains some feelings of self-degradation, some mild exhibitionism, facefucking, and breathplay.

For once, Wilford actually woke up before Danny, about mid-afternoon with the sun shining between the window blinds and casting lines of light and shadow across the bed where he and Danny were huddled together. He smiled. Even if this arrangement was basically just about sex and human contact in general, it sure as hell was nice to wake up holding someone and being held in return for once.

Well, at least until he suddenly realized he was in the middle of a wet dream, that now he had a raging hard-on, and that the person in bed with him was sleeping like a pile of bricks with no chance of being able to wake up enough to help him get off any time soon. He contemplated for a moment and then decided to gently wiggle his way out of Danny’s grip as not to wake him up, put a pillow in Danny’s arms in place of himself, and then slip away to the adjacent bathroom for a “moment of privacy.”

He ducked inside the doorway and leaned against the wall just inside the room, starting to palm at his length through his boxers. A shaky breath left him, and he quickly bit down on his lower lip to stifle a moan. He needed to be as quiet as he possibly could so he didn’t wake Danny up, but that was _so_ hard to do. He was a very, very vocal person when it came to pleasure, and having to force that back just made things difficult for him. Still manhandling his junk through his underwear, he slid down the wall and onto the floor as his legs decided they didn’t quite want to hold him up properly anymore.

After a little more time just groping at his own crotch, he forced himself to sit up on his knees and pull his underwear down mid-thigh at least. His cock sprung out from the fabric and smacked harshly against his lower tummy, making him hiss a little bit from the slight sting that left him with. He then gripped his length and gave it a first, heady stroke. His vision went a little fuzzy when he did that, but refocused quickly and he started fisting at his cock more adamantly now, biting down harder on his lip and only letting the quietest of whimpers escape him. He let his eyes slip shut, and his hips bucked up into his hand as he jerked himself more quickly and needily. He was getting absorbed in the feelings of the moment and was starting to lose control of himself somewhat.

Danny opened his eyes, pulled from his sleepy state when he heard a strangled noise from the bathroom that was adjoined with the bedroom. He knew that sound was Wilford, but his still half-asleep brain didn’t really quite register what that sound _was_ yet, so he got up and kind of hobbled over to the bathroom to make sure Wilford was okay.

“Wilford, you alri---” Danny started to ask Wilford if he was okay, but was shocked out of his groggy headspace when he saw Wilford kneeling on the floor jacking off fervently. Wilford’s eyes snapped open and he looked up at Danny, face turning _much_ brighter red than it had already been.

“...I was making noise, wasn’t I?” Wilford asked, voice still shaky as his now stilled hand was still gripping his cock. Danny gave Wilford a shit-eating grin and walked over to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

“Yeah, but don’t let me stop you. I think I’m just going to enjoy the view now that I have a view to enjoy,” Danny said, starting to palm at his own groin as he watched Wilford. Magenta eyes slipped shut and Wilford nodded, starting to stroke himself again but letting himself make the noises now that he’d been trying to fight back before Danny woke up. He heard a groan from Danny, and he opened his eyes halfway to look back up at him. Danny was stroking himself as well now too, fixated on Wilford like how a cat stares at a goldfish in a bowl. A shiver ran up Wilford’s spine and he started to fuck his hand faster, starting to whimper out Danny’s name and having to brace himself against the floor with his left arm to keep himself from collapsing over.

“Hey Wilford,” Danny spoke up, voice breathy. Wilford looked up to him fully and made an inquisitive noise. “You look super hot over there, but I think you’d look a lot better with my cock in your mouth.” Wilford moaned quietly from the back of his throat and nodded, pulling his hand off his cock and crawling over to Danny. He kneeled in front of Danny, sitting between his legs and face-level with the other man’s groin. Danny moved to bring his cock closer to Wilford’s face, and Wilford gladly opened his mouth and took in the head. God, he loved giving oral, and Danny just tasted _so good_ to him.  He pulled his mouth off again and licked up the underside Danny’s cock, being sure to tease at the slit at the end with the tip of his tongue, getting a response from Danny in the form of a choked-off moan and a slight jerk of his hips.

W hen he finally took Danny’s cock back into his mouth, he let out a quiet groan and let his eyes close again. He started to bob his head, working his way down the shaft instead of just trying to take him all at once like he usually would.  Danny had to try his absolute hardest to not just starting to fuck Wilford’s face, no matter how much he would  _love_ to just use Wilford’s mouth as  his personal cum dump  (and how much Wilford would no doubt love to  _be_ Danny’s personal cum dump).

“Oh my god Wilford… How the _hell_ are you so good at sucking cock?”  Danny asked, sounding like he’d almost forgotten how to breathe there for a moment. Wilford only responded by humming low in his throat, eliciting a whine from Danny and immediately getting a hand shoved in his hair. Wilford’s back arched a little when he felt Danny’s fingers in his hair, and he bobbed his head faster, getting perhaps a little too enthusiastic about this now. His own cock was leaking globs of precum despite the fact that he wasn’t even stroking himself anymore. Danny was above him and panting hard, breathing punctuated by short moans and mumbles. “Wilford… Can I fuck your face? _Please_? I wanna use you _so bad_ right now...”

W ilford shivered again, this time much harder than before, and nodded. It wasn’t like he had a gag reflex anymore, anyways.  Dan pulled  Wilford’s hair to get him off of his cock , and then got up and shifted them both so Wilford was leaned back against the bathtub and Danny was straddling him.  He was once again face-to-face with Danny’s cock, and he was almost drooling in anticipation of being used like a fucktoy. It wasn’t something he had gotten to experience in a few years, and god was he wanting it so badly right now.  Danny grabbed at Wilford’s chin with his  righ t hand and  pushed down at his chin a little to get him to open his mouth, which Wilford happily complied in doing.  Then Danny’s hand moved to his hair, and in one quick motion Wilford had the entirety of Danny’s cock in his mouth.  It actually did catch him a little by surprise, since he wasn’t expecting Danny to dive straight to his throat in one thrust, but either way he adjusted quickly and looked up at Danny with just his eyes,  giving him the silent signal that he was ready.

Danny hardly even hesitated before pulling back and thrusting back forwards into  Wilford’s mouth aggressively, a little slow at first to build himself up to the pace he wanted to go  at.  It wasn’t long at all until he was mercilessly fucking Wilford’s mouth.  Wilford’s eyes rolled back in his head, tears were starting to drip down his cheeks, he could feel spit dripping down his chin, and he was starting to get a dizzy  and light-headed from the difficulty he was having breathing with Danny’s cock being rammed into his mouth and throat and cutting off his airways.  His own member twitched as it stayed rock-hard and resting against his belly, being ignored for the time being since Wilford’s arms were by his sides while he let Danny fuck his face.  The skin at his cheekbones was starting to turn a pinkish-purpley color and he was seriously starting to lose his grip on reality.  _He loved it_ . He didn’t even register the fact that Danny was saying anything to him, much less what he was saying, until felt hot, salty, bitter cum being forced down his throat.

Danny quickly pulled his cock out of Wilford’s mouth and Wilford collapsed forward a little, gasping, coughing, and sputtering. His vision was patchy and black in places, and he was even now having trouble catching his breath. Danny put his hands on Wilford’s shoulders and got him to sit back up. His eyes were unfocused, he was slack-jawed, and he was a little pale. Danny glanced up at the counter near the bathtub, quickly reached up there for a box of tissues, and at least tried to get Wilford cleaned up a little by wiping the tears off of his cheeks and the spit off of his chin. After throwing the tissue into the wastebasket he gently prodded at Wilford’s shoulder in an attempt to get him to come out of that headspace he’d managed to slip into from the combination of being used and the mild lack of oxygen while that was going on. Wilford made an odd noise and blinked a few times, vision focusing again on Danny. His chest was still heaving as he adjusted to being able to have full control of his windpipe again, and Danny looked super worried about him.

“Oh thank god you’re not gonna pass out on me. Did I go too hard on you? I should’ve made sure we had a system since you couldn’t exactly talk to give a safeword---” Danny was interrupted by Wilford shaking his head and putting a hand on Danny’s chest.

“’M fine...” he managed to mumble out, smiling a tired, lopsided smile at Danny. “It was _great_...”  He was still kind of swaying a little, the brain fog not entirely gone but still subsiding. Danny pulled Wilford into a hug with Wilford’s head resting against Danny’s collarbone, and Wilford absentmindedly nuzzled him.

“I mean… You got off from it, but I’m pretty sure you almost passed out...”

“Danny...” Wilford said, starting to regain his grip on reality finally. “I _love_ breathplay. The closer I get to passing out, the better.”

“Just don’t scare me like that anymore… Jesus...” Danny said, moving so he was leaning against the cabinet and pulling Wilford into his lap. Wilford smirked.

“I’ve had worse,” Wilford assured. That being said, he couldn’t exactly complain about the aftercare he was getting. Much like getting facefucked properly, he hadn’t been the recipient of any decent aftercare in a _long_ time now. It was really nice, actually. “ But thanks for worrying about me, at least. It’s a nice change.” Danny tightened the hold he had on Wilford then, almost trying to make sure he was still there and okay.

God,  facefucking Wilford had been hot  and he  _damn well_ wanted to do that again sometime , but after the fact it just had Danny worried about  him , no matter how much he insisted he was perfectly fine.


	10. Better Than Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny learns that a morning session is a good way to get Wilford to wake up. Afterwards, he learns something more about why Wilford has been acting like he has.

The next morning, Danny woke up spooning Wilford, which wasn't how they'd gone to sleep the night before. If anything, the night before Wilford had just straight-up passed the hell out by ten o clock and Danny curled up in a ball on the other side of the bed. What was it with them and ending up cuddling so often? Well, he supposed it didn't help that right now he was still kind of acting overly protective of Wilford's well-being after the previous afternoon.  
  
Wilford groaned and rolled over to face Danny, nuzzled into his chest, and Danny snuggled him closer like a precious child who needed to be held constantly. Wilford stirred a little more in his sleep a minute or so later, and he opened his eyes ever so slightly and looked up at Danny... and _kissed him_. The kiss was tender and soft, and hell, even almost loving if you read into it. He seemed to take a moment to realize the situation before his eyes snapped open fully and he finally registered the instinct he'd acted upon. He flailed a little and rolled over to face away from Danny again, blushing furiously and expecting Danny to be mad at him for that.  
  
"Force of habit! I wake up being spooned and my first instinct is a good morning kiss!" Wilford apologized into the pillow he yanked over his face. Danny rolled his eyes and yanked Wilford back into cuddle position.  
  
"Oh shut up. We seem to want to suck face whenever we fuck now so it doesn't really matter if you kiss me or not," Danny said with a shrug, hands resting on Wilford's lower abdomen. Wilford sighed and resigned himself to being spooned. It still baffled him how he was getting any kind of physical affection, since he just wasn't used to it. He was used to lovers with a "fuck and leave" agenda, and the fact that Danny was willing to stick around to give aftercare or just _be with him_ for any significant period of time was somewhat confusing. Nice, but confusing. "You're warm and soft..." Danny mumbled, nuzzling his face into the spot between Wilford’s shoulderblades. Wilford relaxed in Danny’s hold finally, releasing his grip on the pillow he was hiding his face behind and snuggling back against Danny.

“For someone who’s all limbs, you sure are cuddly,” Wilford said, turning his head to glance back at Danny. Danny immediately just snuggled Wilford more tightly, seeming to take that as a challenge. Wilford squirmed and laughed because Danny was being a little shit, but Wilford’s squirming while his back was pressed flush to Danny’s front ended up coaxing Danny’s “little friend” out of resting.

Wilford froze up a little when he felt Danny’s now hard dick pressing against his ass. Danny’s hands then snaked from Wilford’s lower abdomen to his groin and chest, groping at him lightly.

“Are you _trying_ to get me horny already this morning?”  Danny asked, shifting to bite at Wilford’s neck. Wilford gasped when his neck was bitten and pressed his ass back against Danny’s groin more firmly. Danny’s response was to slowly grind against Wilford’s ass, rub at his crotch through his pajama pants, and pinch one of his nipples. Wilford keened quietly, arching into Danny’s touch. God, Danny sure knew how to push his buttons and turn him to putty _real_ quick already.

“Quit teasing me, dammit…” Wilford whined. “If you’re going to fuck me, then fuck me!” Then, in one quick movement, Danny was on top of him and had him pinned to the bed. Wilford saw a flash of a smile from him in the split-second before his jawline, neck, and collarbones were attacked with little bites that were hard enough to feel _great_ and leave temporary  tooth marks, but not enough to leave hickies this time around. Their clothed erections were pressed against each other, and Wilford let out a sound almost like a mewl, bucking his hips against Danny’s in a desperate need for friction. Danny pinned Wilford’s hands above him and gyrated his hips, giving himself and Wilford the beautiful stimulation they both needed. Wilford’s toes curled and he tried to pull against Danny’s grip so he could cling to him, but a sharp nip to the bundle of nerves and muscles at the side of his neck and he was back to being a writhing mess under Danny. Danny sucked hard at the place he’d bitten to coax Wilford into submission, drawing a shuddering moan from Wilford’s lips.

Danny pulled back  from Wilford’s neck and took a moment to admire the dark hickey he’d left in plain sight and smirked a little before getting more serious about frotting with Wilford. They were  starting to  rut against  each other  hard and fast,  almost desperate now.  Wilford stuttered out Danny’s name along with some pleas to keep  _going_ , oh god  _please_ . Danny shuddered and angled his hips slightly differently for a different feeling, and it wasn’t long after that until both he and Wilford reached their climaxes at the same time.

They stayed there, breathing heavily for a moment as they got their bearings again. After a minute or so, Wilford shook his wrists free from Danny’s grip, grabbed him by the sides of his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss again.  He couldn’t help it; Danny was just so kissable and it was amazing to have someone who didn’t mind kissing him again, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense.  And to his surprise, Danny actually kissed him back, fingers threading through Wilford’s hair gently.  The gentle lip-lock was broken first by Danny, who looked down to Wilford and rolled his eyes when he saw the goofy grin on Wilford’s face.

“You absolute fuckin’ _sap_ ,” Danny teased, moving from his position of straddling Wilford, who sat up once he had the ability to do so. “What is it with you and sucking face?”

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had the opportunity, okay?” Wilford retorted, folding his arms in playful defiance and looking away, pretending to pout. “You’re the first actual human I’ve been able to have sex with in _six_ _months_.  Before that I was just getting more acquainted with the collection in my closet over there.” He gestured to the closet he kept his expansive collection of toys in for emphasis. Danny was silent in shock for a moment.

“ _Six months_?!” Danny asked, in complete disbelief. “ How the fuck did you _survive_ not getting laid for _six fucking months_?  No wonder you’ve been all over me!”

“It’s not an easy thing to do. Luckily I have plenty of inanimate objects that can fill the void for awhile,” Wilford replied with a shrug. “Six months was torture, but much longer and I would’ve gone insane.”

“Are you implying that you’re not _already_ insane?” Danny raised an eyebrow. Wilford rolled his eyes.

“Fair point. Either way, I might get a little too excited about having reliable physical contact again, so forgive anything I do that might be confused for romantic.”

“Damn, I can’t even blame you, dude. Good thing I figured out how to fuck you senseless, huh?” Danny laughed. “To be fair though, it’s been a hella long time since I’ve been in a legit relationship, so even if it’s not romantic being kissed doesn’t bother me. At least you’re good at it.”

“I should still break the habit before it becomes a problem,” Wilford sighed, shrugging a bit.

“Whatever floats your boat, Wilford. Let’s take a shower though. We’re both sticky and we made a mess of ourselves with our spunk.” Danny made the suggestion, and Wilford nodded. “Sweet. I’m washing your hair again though.”


	11. A New Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford continues to prove his prowess at making his mouth useful, but this time in a way Danny hasn't tried before...

“So how do you feel about rimming?”

Danny sputtered and started coughing, slamming the half-empty can in his hand onto the coffee table.

“I was _drinking_ , you asshole! At least wait until I have the can away from my face before you ask me shit like that out of the blue!” Danny scolded, giving Wilford a gesture of “what the fuck.” He and Wilford were both currently lazing around on the couch back at Danny’s house and watching Chopped.

“Okay the can is away from your face now. How do you feel about rimming?” Wilford asked, obviously just being a little shit about it at this point. Danny paused a moment, halfway listening to the ingredients in the basket for the entree round (who the hell thought putting dragon fruit in the basket was a good idea?) and halfway trying to think of a way to actually answer Wilford’s random question about eating ass.

“Great concept, but I’ve never been a part of it,” Danny finally answered with an over-exaggerated shrug.

“As in you’ve never rimmed someone, or you’ve never been rimmed?” Wilford asked, almost unwilling to believe that Danny hadn’t participated in rimming at all before and therefore having to clarify.

“Um, both?” Danny sounded kind of baffled by the question. “I mean, most chicks aren’t into having their asshole licked, or into licking mine either. And honestly I never even considered the possibility of anyone doing _anything_ to my asshole until you decided you were putting your dick in there the other day.”  Wilford raised an eyebrow and gave Danny a sideways glance. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“After this episode is over, I’m gonna give you the pink mustache ride of your life,” Wilford said, absolutely sure about what he was saying.

“You really are determined to have me try out rimming, aren’t you?” Danny asked, still a little confused as to where the hell this conversation came from. Wilford just nodded in response, and Danny shrugged again. “Fuck it, can’t hurt to try. You did say after this episode though, right? I’m invested in this episode now. I hope the lesbian wins. She’s good at the food thing.”

- \---------

About 30 or so minutes,  the episode finally ended (the person Danny wanted to win did, in fact, win the competition)  and no sooner had Danny turned off the TV when Wilford damn near pounced on him, pulling at the waistband of Danny’s pants to coax him into letting him take them off.  Danny quickly shucked off the  pants,  and since he wasn’t wearing underwear today that made this whole ordeal much easier.  Wilford licked his li ps in anticipation.

“Alright, turn around so you’re facing away from me, and rest on the arm of the couch with your ass in the air,” Wilford instructed, motioning his finger in a circular motion. Danny did as he was told, turning around and resting his forearms on the arm of the couch, on his knees with his ass in the air. “Perfect...” He muttered, smirking and massaging Danny’s asscheeks with his thumbs and the heels of his hands. Danny relaxed a little out of the apprehension he’d had since Wilford had magical hands that could massage the tension out of almost anyone from anywhere on their body.

Wilford started kissing and biting Danny’s lower back and moved down toward his tailbone slowly while still massaging at his asscheeks, partially trying to tease Danny but mostly trying to keep himself under control so he didn’t go at this too fast and overwhelm Danny all at once with something he didn’t have any experience with whatsoever. Once he got to Danny’s asscheeks with his mouth, he decided to get a little frisky and bit one of them, being sure to make use of those sharp canines. Danny whimpered and shifted, his breathing starting to speed up there for a moment. Wilford chuckled quietly and spread Danny’s asscheeks open to expose his hole, and after making sure his tongue was well-coated in saliva, licked a long, slow stripe from Danny’s taint and across his entrance. Danny let out a whine and shuddered at the new feeling, his hands gripping at the arm of the couch more tightly now.

“God, that feels so weird...” Danny spoke, voice shaking. The only response he got from Wilford was another lick across his taint and asshole, but this time a little more firm than before. Danny went quiet then except for panting and the occasional choked-up noise that signified he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of this yet. Wilford was determined to make Danny love this though, and focused his attention fully to Danny’s entrance now, lavishing it with short, sharp licks and putting plenty of pressure there with his tongue. Once he figured he’d gotten Danny loosened up enough, he pressed his tongue into him instead of just teasing him from the outside. Danny yelped sharply, but he quickly started making breathy noises that meant he was not only getting used to the feeling of being fucked by Wilford’s tongue, but really starting to like it.

G etting that nonverbal go-ahead,  Wilford got much more enthusiastic in his actions, wiggling and flexing his tongue to see what kind of reactions he could get out of Danny with them.  And reactions he got. He ended up having to  have a pretty solid grip on Danny’s hips to keep him still enough for Wilford to keep eating him out like this.  Danny whined and arched his back, trying to buck his hips and look for friction on his cock but being held  in place  by Wilford’s strong hands.  After a little longer of just fucking Danny with his tongue, Wilford decided to let go of Danny’s right hip, opting instead to use that hand to stroke Danny’s cock while he continued to tongue at his ass more. Danny’s needy sounds  got louder and his hands scrabbled across the arm of the couch as he desperately tried to find something to grab and hold onto.  He was getting close to cumming, and  _fast_ .

“Wilford… Oh my god Wilford keep it up… God that’s so _good_ …!” Danny whimpered, his legs starting to shake in anticipation of his orgasm. And as if on cue, Danny choked out a few short cries, arched his back, and came with a shout of Wilford’s name. Wilford shivered when he heard Danny cry his name like that, knowing he had him where he wanted now, and withdrew his tongue, sitting back again. He licked the cum off of his right hand and then wiped the spit away from the area around his mouth with his sleeve.

“So… Tell me again how you feel about rimming?” Wilford purred, massaging at his own crotch through his shorts and grinning. Danny just managed a feeble raising of his arm and a shaky thumbs up. “Good. Now if you don’t mind, I need to help myself out too. Seeing you like this got me excited.” He tilted his head a little when Danny turned around to face him, and was surprised to see Danny’s eyes darkened and a smirk played across his lips.

T hen, Danny practically tackled Wilford into the other arm of the couch. Wilford gasped and squirmed a little until he felt Danny shoving a hand into his shorts to grope at his cock.  Danny had him pinned, straddling his legs and  holding him down by his right hip.  Wilford  groaned and leaned back against the couch arm fully, rolling his hips into Danny’s touch to the best of his ability when he was being held down like this.

“Do you like this, Wilford? Getting felt up after you ate my ass like a dirty whore?” Danny growled, giving Wilford’s cock a firm stroke and relishing in the shaky moan out of the shorter man. Danny paused for a moment and then decided to get brave about this. He moved himself downwards and pulled Wilford’s cock out of his shorts, now sitting at face-level with it. He’d never actually had his face this close to someone else’s dick intentionally before, and with Wilford he didn’t think he really minded it. Besides, his face was about to be a _whole_ lot closer to it in a moment. He glanced up at Wilford, who looked confused at the very least. Then, he mouthed at the side of Wilford’s cock, pulling a quiet groan from Wilford in the process. Licking at the head lightly enough to just be a tease, Danny silently contemplated how he wanted to go about this. He’d never sucked cock before, but at least he knew what he liked when _his_ was sucked, so he just assumed  it’d be a good idea to go by that.

T entatively,  Danny wrapped his lips around the head of Wilford’s cock and started to lick and suck at it,  earning a whine and a feeble buck of the hips from Wilford as a response.  Danny took that as encouragement and tried to  get his mouth about as far down on Wilford’s cock as he could without triggering his gag reflex (it wasn’t like Danny really had any reason to learn to ignore his gag reflex before now).  The feeling of having someone’s cock in his mouth was weird, but strangely enough it was actually kind of nice?  At least, he could see why Wilford liked giving head so much now.  He felt Wilford’s fingers in his hair, and glanced up again to see his response. Wilford was  biting his lower lip, breathing heavily through his nose, and his face was flushed bright red.  He squirmed a little on the couch, already sensitive because of need and getting blown was just helping that along.  Danny pulled off of him, a strand of saliva bridging the gap between his lips and Wilford’s cock.

“Am I really doing that well?” he asked, a little nervous-sounding. Wilford moved the hand in Danny’s hair to caress his cheek, and looked down at him. He nodded.

“For someone I’m sure has never sucked cock before, you’re doing _amazing_ ,” he said, mustering every ounce of non-foggy brainpower he had to speak. That gave Danny a new energy for this and he immediately went back to sucking Wilford off, this time much more enthusiastic about it than before. Wilford bit the meaty part of his hand to try and stifle some of the noises he was making, but ended up choking out whimpers and moans despite that. Danny moved his hand to stroke the base of Wilford’s cock where his mouth couldn’t get, pumping him to try and push him toward release. And soon, Wilford’s hand gripped Danny’s hair and tugged a little in warning, and Danny could taste the salty-bitter taste of precum in his mouth. He pulled back off again and started just stroking Wilford to bring him to completion. A few desperate bucks of the hips towards Danny’s hand, and Wilford hollered out and came, making a mess of Danny’s hand and forearm in the process.

“...”

“ _Brian!?_ How the fuck long have you been standing behind the couch?” Danny asked, absolutely fucking flabbergasted by the sudden realization that his ninja housemate was standing behind the couch, and likely had been for awhile now. “What do you mean ‘long enough?’ That doesn’t mean anything!”

“...”

“Okay so you _were_ there to see me get eaten out. Alright I can explain--- Yes I know we fuck on the couch a lot. It’s a convenience thing. _Shut up_!”

Wilford glanced up to Brian and smirked. Call him an exhibitionist, but he was a little glad someone got to witness their sexcapades for once.


	12. When Danny Isn't Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny is out of the house for a few hours and Brian makes it VERY clear that he doesn't much like Wilford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains choking/breathplay, bondage, threats, insults/dirty talk, knifeplay, bloodplay, biting, deliberate underuseage of lube, painplay/pain kink, and some exhibitionism at the end.
> 
> Basically if you thought chapter 7 was aggressive then you're in for a wild ride in this one.

Wilford woke up sprawled out spread-eagle on an empty bed with a pillow over his face. The tank top he’d gone to sleep in was twisted around his torso, one of the armholes pulleded halfway across his chest now and showing off one of his nipples, and his shorts had managed to slip off of his hips to settle just below his groin. Running on his usual morning autopilot, he got up, went to use the restroom, adjusted what he was wearing somewhat, and then shuffled to the kitchen without even really opening his eyes. He’d gotten used to Danny’s house enough to be able to run on autopilot and at least get himself a cup of coffee, so that’s what he did.

His first glimpse of awareness for the day was realizing he was sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the cabinets under the counter, with a mostly-empty coffee mug in his hands. He chalked it up to at least being functional, and actually stood up now. A glance around the room and he realized he was _alone_ in the room. It was kind of eerie not seeing Danny sitting at the table having breakfast already, and Wilford cautiously walked around through a few rooms to look for at least _someone_ , his brows furrowed together. It wasn’t until he walked into the living room that he managed to stumble upon another human being in the house with him. That human was Brian, sitting on the back of the couch and facing backwards toward the doorway Wilford walked through. Wilford jolted a little, startled.

“Jesus, Brian, don’t do that!” he said with a scowl. Brian just kept staring at him. “Alright, then where’s Danny?” Wilford asked, nervous after not getting an answer out of him. “He had something to do this morning? Really? And he didn’t even let me know? _Rude_.”

Brian got up from his position sitting on the back of the couch and walked up to Wilford, making surprisingly aggressive eye contact with him. Wilford backed up a little, only to have Brian step forward every time he stepped backwards. It wasn’t long before Wilford was backed up against the wall with Brian staring him down face-to-face.

“Personal bubble, Brian. You’re a little too close for comfort, there...”

“ _I don’t like you.”_ Brian spoke firmly, catching Wilford completely off-guard. Well, at least he assumed Brian spoke. For all he knew the guy could just communicate through telepathy and was actually functionally mute.

“Don’t _like_ me? You barely even _know_ me! Where the hell do you get the _gall_ to tell me, someone you haven’t even _communicated with_ one-on-one before now, that you _don’t like me_?” Wilford straightened up, no longer slunk back against the wall behind him. A swift movement, and he had shoved Brian away from him and started walking back into the kitchen to put his coffee mug in the sink. No sooner had he actually put the thing in the sink where it belonged, did he suddenly feel his right arm being grabbed and twisted behind his back like he was some younger sibling being played “Uncle” with.

“ _I don’t fucking trust you.”_ Brian was still incredibly firm in his speech, aggressive but not exactly angry-sounding yet. It was still enough to be somewhat intimidating, not that it deterred Wilford too much right now. _“You’re just using Danny to be your fucktoy. He deserves better than some bubblegum-mustached_ _ **whore**_ _.”_ Brian’s face was right up by Wilford’s ear now, close enough that Wilford could feel his breath against his ear and neck.

Wilford growled low in his throat and yanked his arm out of Brian’s grip, turning around to face him despite being at the disadvantage of being backed up against the counter with nowhere to run. He was well-aware of how Brian was. He knew this silent fucker was a brutal murder waiting to happen at any given moment. However, right now he couldn’t find himself possibly giving much less of a fuck than he did.

“Danny _agreed_ to this. I didn’t have to threaten him, or blackmail him, or anything like that. All I did was give him head in my dressing room and he made the decision without me having to talk him into it. _He knows what he’s getting into_ ,” Wilford snarled, showing teeth and speaking in a tone proving that he wasn’t just going to sit back and be berated like this. “And what does that make you?”

Brian’s eyes widened in rage, and his lips were pressed tightly together in a thin line behind his mask.

“You’re just some cut-rate psychopath pretending to be a ninja to make yourself look cool. You’re in this band with Danny just so you can mooch off of his voice and musical talent, and _you fucking know it_ ,” Wilford spat out. “You’re just jealous Danny is more attracted to me than you could ever even _hope_ he would be to you. You couldn’t get into his pants if you fucking _tried_ , and I know I’d be a better fuck to begin with.” He got out that last sentence and quickly found himself being spun around toward the counter, his arms held forcefully behind his back, and the cold, harsh feeling of metal against his neck.

“ _You want to put your money where your mouth is, Warfstache?”_ Brian spoke coldly, grip tightening on Wilford’s wrists and pulling the knife in his hand against Wilford’s throat firmly enough to leave an indent but not to break skin yet. _“I could slit your throat and fuck the wound, and you’d be begging in the afterlife for more.”_

“Bullshit. You’re probably no better a fuck than the dildos I have at home. In fact, I think my toys might be better than you could ever be.”

“ _Try me,_ **bitch**.” Brian pulled Wilford back so their bodies were flush against each other, earning a growl from Wilford.

“Show me what you’ve got,” Wilford responded, words ice against the otherwise silence of the room. He was quickly met with… Where did Wilford’s shirt go, where did Brian get ropes from, and how the hell did he get Wilford’s arms tied so quickly without him noticing? Okay maybe he was more of a supernatural stealth master than Wilford had given him credit for, but he wasn’t backing down now. If Brian wanted to show off what he could do and how good a fuck he supposedly was, like hell was Wilford going to stop him. He could use the bragging points. Also, when did that bottle of lube show up on the counter? What kind of freak was Brian that made him able to seemingly materialize things out of thin air?

Brian shoved Wilford around to move him, bending him over the center island of the kitchen. He grabbed the journalist by the throat, making sure to put just enough pressure to inhibit the flow of oxygen to the brain, but not enough to make him start to slip out of consciousness. He wanted Wilford to be aware for all of this if he was going to prove his point.

“ _Judging by Danny’s worried rambling about you the other day, I assume you like being choked?”_ Brian damn near teased, tightening his grip on Wilford’s neck and drawing a pathetic half-moan out of him. Wilford felt a hand trail down to grab at his dick through his shorts, and subconsciously bucked his hips toward Brian’s hand. _“Pathetic little whore, just asking to be used like you’re nothing more than a breathing fleshlight.”_

Wilford shuddered when he was spoken to like that, and his throat was let go of again, allowing for him to get a gasp of air and get rid of that fuzzy feeling in his skull. It was now that it was starting to sink in that his masochism and stubbornness were likely to actually get him killed this time, but that thought just got him even more turned-on than he was before.

“ _I wonder how you’d like being carved like a cheap pumpkin on Halloween?”_ Brian all but mused, dragging the tip of the knife down Wilford’s back, between his shoulderblades and pressing down just enough to threaten skin breakage. In his enthusiasm, he accidentally pressed a little bit too hard and punctured the soft flesh just past the inner edge of one of Wilford’s shoulderblades, drawing a small amount of blood that trickled down the curves of Wilford’s back. The response Brian got from him was at first a quiet cry of pain, but that quickly turn ed into a whimper and a bowing down of Wilford’s head. Brian raised an eyebrow at the reaction he got from Wilford, and experimentally dragged the blade of the knife, still cutting through skin and drawing blood, about an inch or two down some more. Wilford choked out something somewhere between a sob and a moan, starting to shake involuntarily from the overwhelming painful (yet _amazing_ ) sensation he was getting. _“I thought so.”_

With the hand not currently controlling the knife, he reached to palm at Wilford’s groin through his shorts again before quickly yanking them down to expose his cock. Wilford shivered harshly at the sudden cold air on his junk, only to end up biting back a moan when Brian grabbed a hold of his balls and squeezed them a little. He could feel the cold trail of the knife sliding down his back, every so often cutting into the skin of his back just deep enough to draw thick droplets of blood and send a zap of pain through his body that left him panting and whimpering each time. After a few moments of painful pleasure that was starting to make him dizzy, he heard the clatter of the knife being put back onto the counter he was shoved against. He felt Brian’s body step back from his own, and though he didn’t move to look, or even open his eyes, he could practically _feel_ the way he was being stared at by the older man. He heard the quiet “pop” of a cap being opened, and the next thing he knew his asshole was being prodded at.

Wilford yelped a little at the sudden coldness of a lubed finger rubbing at his entrance, but the noise he made was quickly cut off by the familiar feeling of Brian’s hand back and grabbing at his throat.

“ _Be quiet, you loud motherfucker. I know you’re enjoying this, but you’re too damn noisy,”_ Brian cautioned, and Wilford nodded slightly in response to the demand. _“Maybe I should keep choking you so I can be sure you keep your mouth shut?”_ Wilford felt a rush of dizziness from both the feeling of being choked and from the way Brian was commanding him around and treating him like a deranged animal at best. He felt that finger that had been poking around at his ass finally shove in, and there was a burning feeling that signified the fact that Brian had used just enough lube to make Wilford somewhat pliable but not enough to actually make things easy for him at all.

Wilford squirmed his hips around a little, trying to force out something about the amount of lube Brian was using but being unable to speak properly when Brian’s grip on his throat tightened, sending a wave of heat and dizziness through his entire body. He could feel that single digit thrusting into him with an uneven pace, working him open just enough to push another sparsely-lubed finger into him. As much as he hated to admit it, Wilford loved the abuse a whole lot more than he should’ve. He knew that for a fact. The thought of being treated roughly and being prepped with barely enough lube to make a difference was much more exhilarating to him than it should be to any normal person, but here he was, desperately trying to get Brian to finger-fuck him harder already and not caring if he ends up injured as a result of the carelessness of the way he was being loosened.

When Brian shoved a third finger in suddenly, he let go of Wilford’s neck again to keep him from passing out at least, and relished in the sound of Wilford gasping for breath, as well as the feeling of his hips rocking back in a fevered attempt to get more contact, more pleasure. He curled his fingers inside the younger man, and earned a loud keening noise from him. Yep, he’d definitely managed to get his prostate.

Wilford was starting to get overwhelmed by everything he was feeling. The residual sting from the cuts on his back, the feeling of blood dripping from those cuts, the bruise he could’ve sworn he could feel forming across his throat already, the repeated attacks to his prostate, all of it was teaming up to drive him absolutely mad. He flexed his shoulders, temporarily forgetting about the ropes holding his forearms together behind him until he felt the tug of nylon against skin. Yep, those ropes were definitely going to leave a mark too. And just when he thought he couldn’t get any more overwhelmed by touch, he felt a tongue lave over one of the longer cuts across his back, and some rough stubble prickling at the already painfully sensitive skin around the area. _Holy shit Brian had taken off his mask Wilford was absolutely fucked._

“ _I think you’re ready for my cock, aren’t you Warfstache?”_ Brian asked, though the question was more hypothetical than anything because he already knew the answer. Fingers were withdrawn, and before long he could feel a hand on his hip to steady him somewhat. He felt the head of Brian’s cock (without a condom, mind you) press against his entrance and whined halfway because he needed him _now_ and halfway because he wasn’t sure if he was going to tear or not when Brian was finally settled inside him. And as if to respond to his thoughts, Brian roughly thrust into him, thankfully with some lube on his cock but not enough to keep that violent shock of pain from ripping through Wilford all at once and pulling a shout from him as well. Brian was already hilted inside him, but he stilled for a moment to let Wilford get the squirming and shaking out of his system before actually starting to properly fuck him.

Wilford could tell he wouldn’t be able to sit right for the next few days, but the pain subsided somewhat as the movements of Brian’s hips against his own got somehow smoother. He assumed there was blood involved in the equation somewhere, considering it was impossible for lube to suddenly multiply inside someone like that. He didn’t get the chance to focus on that thought though before he felt Brian grab for his throat again and squeeze, restricting his airways a lot more than he had before. Teeth bit down into Wilford’s shoulder, drawing the tiniest trickle of more blood from him and yanking a choked-off whimper from him.

Brian was fucking Wilford _relentlessly_ now, pounding him hard and fast enough to have him seeing stars (and the lack of oxygen wasn’t helping him _not_ see stars either). A hand grasped at his cock harshly again and just sort of squeezed for a moment. Wilford could hear grunts and groans coming from Brian, but didn’t quite notice the sound of a door yet until…

“Oh my god what in fresh hell is going on in here?” Danny’s voice stammered out from the doorway into the kitchen. Brian’s hand quickly moved from Wilford’s throat and into his hair to yank his head back to force him to look at Danny. Wilford’s face flushed brightly but soon he was practically sobbing in pleasure when Brian started slamming directly into his prostate over and over and over again. Brian finally started aggressively stroking Wilford’s cock to bring him to completion quicker, and it was almost no time before Wilford cried out wordlessly and came. Wilford tightening around Brian was all that was really needed to push Brian over the edge too, pumping Wilford full of his cum and making Wilford whine from the feeling of being filled up like some cheap whore. Brian pulled out of him soon after, letting go of Wilford and allowing him to slump to the floor in an overexerted daze.

“ _He was testing me. I just gave him what he was testing me on,”_ Brian said before Danny could even question why the hell he had walked in on that particular scene. _“He was into it too, don’t worry.”_

“That’s not really what has me worried as much as the fact that the last time you got laid you killed the person you were fucking,” Danny said, rushing over to Wilford to make sure he was alright. “ _Jesus_ Brian you left some pretty bad cuts on him… And bite marks. And a bruise around his neck. And oh my god how tight did you tie his arms? Were you _trying_ to cut off circulation?”

“ _Do you want me to help clean him up or something?”_

“At least go get the antiseptic and some bandages, you asshole! Make _something_ useful of yourself to fix this!” Danny snapped, getting a response of a defeated raise of the hands by Brian as he strode off silently to get some first aid supplies to take care of Wilford with. He held Wilford up, trying to keep him conscious for the moment since he looked awfully spaced-out right now. “Are you okay, dude? Holy shit did you actually want that or---” He was cut off by Wilford leaning to rest his forehead on his shoulder. Wilford kind of haphazardly patted Danny’s arm as a reassurance that he was at least alive and absolutely wanted what he’d gotten, just in time for Brian to come back with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, some gauze, and a roll of medical tape. “Brian I swear to god you are one lucky motherfucker. I would’ve had to kick your ass back into the future with the Dick Elders if you’d done any major damage to Wilford.”

“ _Jeez, protective much? I thought there were no emotions involved.”_

“Well excuse me for wanting to keep someone alive who I’ve, I dunno, actually made friends with over the past couple weeks?” Danny growled. “Now go away so I can take care of this.”

“ _You might want to get him to lie down for that. He might handle it better.”_ Brian shrugged and left the room, vanishing to who-knows-where in the house again.

“Do you want me to take you into the bathroom for this, Wilford?” Danny asked once Brian had left the room. He got a weak nod from Wilford in response, and then finally the slumped man managed some actual words.

“Holy _shit_ that was intense...” he slurred, getting helped up by Danny, only to end up having his legs give out from under him. “...Gotta be carried. Legs don’t work.”

“Alright Wilford come on.” Danny rolled his eyes and hoisted Wilford up bridal-style, being careful not to create any friction against his cuts. “Can you grab the first aid stuff off the counter there at least?”

Wilford reached over and picked up the things Brian had brought out, and was quickly carried into the bathroom, had a big fluffy bath towel laid out for him to rest on, and was put on the towel stomach-down.

“I didn’t expect a hatefuck to happen while I was gone...” Danny mumbled, grabbing a cotton ball in a pair of bent nose tweezers, soaking it in the peroxide, and dabbing the disinfectant onto one of the nastier of Wilford’s cuts. He got an actual unpleasant whimper from Wilford, and used his free hand to gently pet Wilford’s hair and try to comfort him a little. “Yeah I know it sucks but I gotta do this, okay? Maybe next time think of this when you want to get carved like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

Wilford groaned, turning his head a little to look at Danny, who glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re so nice to me...” Wilford almost sounded like he was getting delirious now, brain fog setting back in thanks to subspace. Danny sighed and dabbed some more antiseptic onto another of Wilford’s cuts, earning a wince of pain and another whimper from him.

“At least _someone_ has to be nice to you,” he said, a little loudly and pointedly, trying to be a passive-aggressive shit and have Brian hear him from wherever he fucked off to. “I guess I know why Brian has been acting weird around you since you guys met now, though.”

“He said he doesn’t trust me with you,” Wilford spilled out, still stuck in his semi-aware brain state and not thinking about what he was saying. “Something about… Me using you, and you deserving better than me.”

“Oh my god it was because he went into papa bear mode,” Danny said with a growl, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger. “Well it was a load of bullshit. If I wasn’t cool with this whole thing, it wouldn’t _be_ a thing. Got it?”

“Yeah I guess so,” Wilford kinda mumbled out, not sounding too reassured about it. Danny resumed gently petting Wilford’s hair, managing to calm him back down out of that self-doubting state of mind. “I did challenge him though. I poked the bear and accused him of being a bad fuck.”

“He changed your mind _real_ fucking quick, didn’t he?” Danny asked, putting some gauze on one of the worst cuts and sticking it down with some strips of medical tape. “Brian isn’t the kind of guy you talk smack to and challenge. He _will_ win.”

“You’re still better.”

“Yeah, because I don’t try to kill you.”

“That too.”


	13. Impatience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford really needs to give it a rest for a few days, but he's being a pest about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only have one thing to say about this chapter: 69.
> 
> Okay and hypersensitivity play too but the main focus was the 69 part originally. Wilford continues to have an oral fixation, and I have zero regrets about doing this.

“Come on Danny, you won’t even let me touch you?” Wilford whined, splayed across Danny’s lap like an attention-starved cat while Danny flipped through a magazine. “You don’t even have to reciprocate! I’ll do all the work!”

“Wilford, you have two days until we go to that nightclub like we planned,” Danny responded, lifting the magazine up to Wilford an exasperated look. “Brian railed the absolute hell out of you yesterday, and I’m not putting any rowdy drunk sex we might have at the risk of not happening because you’re a pain slut and ended up with an injury because you won’t pay attention to your limits.” Wilford frowned at him in return, moving his hands to catch Danny’s wrists when he tried to bring the magazine back down.

“Since when did I say I wanted it up the butt this time?” Wilford asked, sounding offended. “I’m willing to let myself heal from that challenge-fuck. I’m just _really horny_ right now!”

“Aren’t you always?”

“As if you aren’t too.”

“Touche,” Danny spoke after a brief pause, closing the magazine and giving it a bit of a toss onto the coffee table. Wilford’s expression lit up and he was immediately straddling Danny’s lap, hands resting on the taller man’s shoulders. He was obviously a little too eager for his own good about this, but as long as he wasn’t getting himself into something that would get him hurt, Danny couldn’t really argue it.

Wilford swiveled his hips a little, settling down in Danny’s lap at a position to have their groins pressed hard against each other.  He rutted his hips forward almost teasingly slow,  just enough friction to get them both painfully hard.  He felt Danny’s hands on his hips and rolled his hips again, managing to elicit a quiet growl from Danny.

“Before you ask, yes my back is doing better,” Wilford purred, taking a little bit of a hint from the growl he’d just gotten from Danny. “As long as you’re not shoving me around like you’re mugging me---” He yelped then when Danny suddenly straight-up manhandled him, switching their positions so Wilford was pinned to the cushions at the arm of the couch. He was about to say something sassy in response to that, but he was quickly interrupted by the heel of Danny’s hand being shoved unceremoniously against the bulge in his pants and starting to knead at him, which easily shut him up except for the drawn-out moan he made.

“Alright, so what do you suppose we do, then?” Danny asked, slowing his hand’s motions and waiting for an answer from Wilford.

“Maybe we could try sixty-nine this time?” Wilford asked, feeling a blush creep up to his cheeks when he made the suggestion. He felt silly asking about doing that in particular. How many people _actually_ did the whole mutual-oral thing instead of just joking about it being the sex number? He was pulled out of his train of thought when Danny shrugged and nodded, though.

“Why the hell not? You’re good at blowjobs anyways, and I guess I need practice,” he said, getting up off of Wilford again and moving to take his pants off and tie his hair up with one of the scrunchies he kept on one of the little ashtray-like containers on the table. Wilford scrambled to remove his own pants quickly, not wanting to waste any time taking advantage of this opportunity, and making grabby-hands at Danny once he was being looked at again. “Oh my god Wilford you’re like an excited puppy. You’re even getting a bone!” Danny laughed at his own joke then, and Wilford scowled over-exaggeratedly in an attempt to stifle his own laughter.

“Why don’t you put my dick in your mouth before you keep making shitty jokes?” Wilford teased, getting a mischievous grin from Danny in return. However, it wasn’t very long at all before both Danny and Wilford were adjusted properly on the couch, Danny kneeling above Wilford with his groin right within reach, and facing Wilford’s as well in a similar fashion. He was about to get to work when he felt Wilford’s mouth eagerly envelop the head of his cock, and he hesitated for a brief second to shake off the stunned feeling of getting head again enough to be able to focus enough to _give_ head too.

A fter that moment to collect himself, Danny dove into the task at hand, copying Wilford’s actions to the best of his ability. He felt Wilford’s strong hands on his thighs, holding him up, and let himself relax a little with the realization that Wilford was much stronger than he was and probably wouldn’t have any issue should Danny end up jelly-legged at any point.  He bobbed his head,  testing the waters to see just how far he could go, and ended up getting surprisingly farther than he’d expected to before he felt his gag reflex  starting to caution him.  Now that he knew his limits with this, he got more enthusiastic about his cock-sucking, getting affirmation of how he was doing in the form of pleasant vibrations up his own cock from Wilford’s moaning.

W ilford took that as a challenge and pulled Danny’s hips downward a little and deep-throating him for a moment,  successfully making Danny lock up briefly before he started going at it with even more fervor than before. Wilford was actually kind of impressed by how enthusiastic about this Danny was, but it was still more motivation for him to get more into it as well.

T he both of them were making muffled whimpers and groans and trying their damnedest to  keep up what they’re doing for the sake of the other,  which was admittedly getting more and more difficult to do.  Danny felt his climax approaching much faster than he’d prefer, so he sped up his own movements, risking the possibility of triggering his gag reflex solely to try and get Wilford off before him.  Judging by the shakiness Wilford was starting to show, he was actually succeeding in this.  Honestly, it was making Danny feel some pride in himself over this,  especially  since Wilford seemed so well-versed in oral sex.  He pressed his tongue against the sensitive area at the underside of the head of Wilford’s cock, and was caught by surprise by hearing Wilford letting out a sharp, muffled noise, and then tasting the salty bitter ness of cum on his tongue. Not really having anywhere else for it to go, Danny semi-reluctantly swallowed the spunk that had been spilled into his mouth, and pulled off of Wilford’s cock slowly.

A fter a brief moment of catching his breath, Danny suddenly realized that Wilford’s mouth wasn’t on his dick anymore. Before he could think anything of it, he was pinned back-down on the couch with Wilford above him and grinning like the cat who  got into the avi ary.  He caught sight of Wilford licking his lips, and then in a swift movement Wilford had ducked back down and started sucking Danny off again, this time with much more excitement than before.  Danny’s eyes rolled back in bliss, and he absentmindedly moved a hand to rest on Wilford’s head, fingers just barely combing through his hair.  He was convinced he’d  _never_ be used to just how good Wilford was at giving  oral , and he was perfectly fine with that.  That just meant he could never get tired of it.  Wilford was licking, kissing, and sucking at whatever he could get his mouth on, and Danny felt like his legs were going numb from just the pleasure of it.  He could feel that familiar spring in his abdomen tightening quicker and quicker, and he managed to rasp out a warning of his impending orgasm just before it actually hit him.

Wilford swallowed every single drop of cum, but he just kept going at it after that, still sucking and licking at Danny’s now hypersensitive cock and making him squirm and whine.  That hand resting on Wilford’s head was suddenly gripping at Wilford’s hair and basically just encouraging him to keep going despite how squirmy and desperate Danny was getting. He was absolutely determined to rip a second orgasm out of Danny, since he knew the second one was almost always more intense than the first one if they were close enough together. He was caught a little by surprise when he felt Danny’s hips jerk forward and end up burying the head of Danny’s cock against the beginnings of his throat. However, he took this as a sign to take him in as far as he possibly could, and quickly had Danny whimpering out Wilford’s name, punctuated by shorts gasps and moans.

M agenta eyes glanced up at Danny’s face, and seeing the bright red flush across the singer’s cheeks just got Wilford riled up and encouraged him to bob his head faster, hollowing out his cheeks to try and coax out that second climax as fast as he could. And he knew he was getting Danny closer, considering the fingers in his hair tightened and he could feel the skinny thighs under his his own hands starting to t ens e and shake.  The noises he was getting in response to what he was doing were getting notably louder, and soon he felt Danny’s hips tighten up under him.

“Oh god… Oh my god I can’t… Oh god _Wilford…_!”  Danny cried out, arching off the couch. An intense heat coursed up his entire body like a fucking freight train, and he came in Wilford’s mouth a second time. Wilford pulled his mouth away from Danny’s cock with a lewd, wet pop, and he wiped the little bit of cum that had escaped down his chin away with his thumb before licking it off his hand. Danny was looking at him like he was some sort of weird incubus or some sort of hot alien, both bewildered and sort of intimidated. “Jesus H. Christ, do you literally _always_ swallow?”

H e just got a nod and a sly wink from Wilford, the journalist apparently feeling like he didn’t need to give a real verbal answer to that question.  He’d just let the proof speak for itself  in time.  But maybe one little thing couldn’t hurt to be said.

“Maybe start drinking pineapple juice. Might make me even more eager to blow you.”


	14. Club Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time to go out on Saturday has finally come. Wilford has been looking forward to taking Danny out to his favorite club with him, and even more so looking forward to what was likely to come afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contains mention of drugs and alcohol, public makeouts, and some multi-round drunk/high sex
> 
> also note: this is a SUPER long chapter compared to the others I've done so far, so forgive the extremely lengthy

Saturday. Late-afternoon, Danny was pacing around his bedroom in his underwear trying to figure out the best thing to wear to a nightclub he’d literally never been to before. Like yeah, he’d been to nightclubs before on dates (of which this was most certainly _not_ one).  He rummaged through his closet for probably the fifth time, groaning to himself when he looked at the collared shirts in there and found himself still unable to figure out which one to actually wear out.

“ _Danny, you’ve been pacing and looking in your closet for two hours. Nothing new is going to magically appear,”_ Brian spoke from his position of suddenly behind Danny, effectively scaring the living bejeezus out of him.

“Give a guy some warning for once! Jesus!”

“ _I thought you would’ve learned how to pick up on me being behind you by now.”_ Brian shoved Danny aside a little and started rummaging through the closet himself. _“You’re a fucking disaster. Sit down on the bed and let me pick something out for you so you don’t miss your chance to head out.”_

“Gaaayyyy,” Danny taunted, moving to go sit on the mattress and bounce a little bit.

“ _Remind me again. Who’s the one going out to a nightclub with a flamboyant reporter and probably going to end up getting laid by that same reporter?”_ Brian asked, pausing for a moment when he spoke and then going back to sifting through Danny’s shirts. He pulled out a hanger with a shiny metallic blue shirt on it, and one with a pair of black slacks.  He tossed them to Danny, grabbed a pair of black and blue dress shoes off of the top shelf in the closet and put them on the floor in front of Danny, and then went through the dresser to find a tie, belt and a pair of socks. He ended up picking something black for each of them, and tossed them to Danny as well. _“There. Now you’ll look presentable since you’re in something other than spandex in public for once.”_

“Uh, thanks?” Danny said, a little confused about why Brian was being so insistent on making him look nice for the evening at least. He got the shirt shrugged onto his shoulders and was about halfway through buttoning it up when he heard his phone chirp at him. “Oh fuck that’s Wilford isn’t it?” He reached over to the nightstand and picked up his phone to check it. It was, in fact, Wilford. He hit the button to answer the call, and held his phone between his shoulder and ear while he continued buttoning up his shirt.

“You ready yet?” Wilford asked from the other end of the line. He sounded like he was trying hard not to seem too giddy.

“I couldn’t figure out what to wear until a few minutes ago. I’m like halfway dressed right now,” Danny admitted, fastening the top button of his shirt and reaching for the tie sitting next to him. “Ah fuck it’s been awhile since I wore a tie...”

“Do you seriously not remember how to tie a necktie?”

“You usually don’t wear neckties with spandex.”

“ _I swear to god Danny you are a fucking disaster. Move the phone so I can get that thing tied properly.”_

“Oh my god Brian has to dress you.”

“Shut up! At least I didn’t decide on the fuck it method and just show up in whatever!”

“ _There. It should untie easily when you have to try and get the thing off you too. You’re welcome. Now put on your pants and shoes and get your ass moving.”_

“Wow. For someone who doesn’t like me, Brian sure is trying to get you out of the house to go to this club with me,” Wilford said, genuinely impressed. “Shoot me a text when you’re about to head over to my house, alright? I’ll be waiting~” And then he hung up. Danny put his phone back down, and then worked on getting the rest of his outfit together so he could get out of the house and be reasonably-dressed.

He had a feeling he’d end up with his clothes yanked off of him later, with how enthusiastic Wilford got about sex, but it was always better to look decent when you go out with someone, right?

He tucked in his shirt, slipped the belt through the waistband of his pants, and got his shoes and socks on before going to check himself in the mirror to make sure nothing was crooked or wrinkled. Thankfully, he was fine, but when he turned back around, he was faced once again by Ninja Brian, who was holding out three hair ties.

“ _Tame the Jewfro for awhile,”_ was all he said when Danny rolled his eyes and took the elastic bands from him. He followed Danny out toward the front door, watched as Danny patted down his pockets to be sure he had everything, and then handed him his keys, phone, and wallet. _“And pay attention to what you’re doing for once.”_

“Fine, _mom_ ,” Danny groaned out, opening the front door. “By the way, probably won’t be back until like tomorrow afternoon.”

“ _That’s what I expected anyways. Now shoo. Go get drunk and laid, or whatever the fuck you plan on doing.”_

Danny rolled his eyes again and walked out to his car.

\----------

The short drive to Wilford’s condo couldn’t have been any more agonizingly slow. Was it always going to be like this when he had to drive to Wilford’s place? Was he always going to be nervous about whatever it was he was going there for?  God he hoped not.  He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, kind of rocking on his heels until the door opened. And there Wilford was, in a hot pink dress shirt, a white ensemble of slacks, suspenders, and a bowtie, shiny black dress shoes, and his hair  styled back away from his face with some sort of product.

“Earth to Sexbang. Come in Sexbang,” Wilford said, snapping his fingers. Apparently Danny had hyperfixated on him for a moment without realizing. “Houston, I think we lost Sexbang.”

“No, I’m fine! I’m here!” Danny said, blushing. “Uh… You clean up well. I mean, you look good.” He froze up for a moment, overthinking what he just said. “Not that you don’t always look good! You’re hot pretty much all the fucking time, but I’ve never seen you this dressed-up before---”

“Danny.” Wilford put a finger to the other man’s lips, gesturing him to hush. “Calm down. You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it actually is.”

D anny took a deep breath again and nodded. He was starting to look visibly nervous, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. It wasn’t like he’d never gone on dates before (even though this  _still_ wasn’t a date), and for the love of god he and Wilford had fucked on multiple occasions already so it wasn’t even like they didn’t know each other yet.

“By the way, I called an Uber over a few minutes after you said you were on the way here,” Wilford said, suddenly remembering. “I figured we’d better be safe than sorry, and I don’t think either of us would want to walk back here from Ocean Dragon. It’s a pretty hefty trek on foot.”

“What, you planning on getting wasted?” Danny asked, raising an eyebrow. Wilford shrugged.

“Well I wasn’t planning on staying sober, at least.” He spoke definitively, as if he’d considered his options already. “What’s the point of going out to a bar or a club if you plan on staying sober? If you’re a designated driver just stay home until someone calls you.”

“You actually make a pretty good point,” Danny responded as Wilford closed the door behind them, checking to make sure it was locked. “By the way, how long has Ocean Dragon even been a thing? Kinda feels like the place sprang up out of nowhere downtown recently.”

“About three years.” Wilford took a moment before responding, trying to remember. “There used to be a pretty popular strip club there, but the guys who ran it got into a heap of shit and the place got closed and torn down. The land ended up bought real quick and Ocean Dragon opened up less a year later.”

“Oh shit I think I might’ve been to that strip club. Wasn’t it called ‘Show and Tell’ or something like that?” Danny asked, actually sounding really thoughtful. Wilford seemed pretty surprised by the question.

“Actually it was Show ‘N’ Tail, but you were close at least. Since when did you go to strip clubs?”

“You forget I’m over a decade older than you, dude.”

“You’re almost 40?”

“I’m 38, at least.”

“Holy shit you don’t look it _at all_.”  Wilford was in complete disbelief. There was no way in hell Danny was in his late thirties. He had to be pulling Wilford’s leg, right? While he was busy inwardly arguing with himself about Danny’s age, he noticed a car pull up into the driveway. Then as if on cue, his phone buzzed, the driver of said car letting him know that he was there now. “That’s our ride. You ready?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Let’s get this party started!”

\----------

The building was much more intimidating than it should’ve been. It had two stories, there was neon signage in the windows and on the front of the  building,  and there were two pretty brutish-looking security guards waiting by the doors for anyone who would potentially start shit.  They could faintly hear the music as they approached the front where the guards were. Said guards took notice of Wilford immediately and smiled.

“Good evening, fellas! Staying out of trouble so far?” Wilford asked playfully. The taller of the guards laughed and nodded.

“As best as we can, Mr. Warfstache,” he said. He looked over to Danny then. “You have a guest with you tonight, I see?”

“I had the night off, so I decided to take a special outing with him,” Wilford said with a wink, and glanced over to Danny. Danny looked back and forth between Wilford and the guards, not entirely sure how to respond. The shorter of the guards patted Danny on the back.

“Go on in. And good luck on the date, sir,” the shorter guard spoke. Wilford walked into the building, but Danny was held back a little bit before he walked through the door fully. “You’re a lucky guy. Mr. Warfstache is quite a catch,” he said quietly, and he let Danny go through.

Danny followed Wilford into the club, music pounding in his ears already and the ambiance and chatter of the other people in the place giving a little energy to his step now.  This was a new place, but damn did he love clubs. They were always so loud and energetic, and as cliché as it sounded, full of sexual energy. He stood there for a moment, overwhelmed in the best of ways by the loud music and the neon lights before Wilford grabbed him by the hand and pulled him over toward the bar.  He sat down at one of the stools at the end of the bar nearest to the stage where the DJ was, and gestured to the stool next to him for Danny to sit there too.

N o sooner had Danny settled himself into the seat, did he see someone he assumed was a bartender approaching them. He was a tall, strong-looking guy with curly brown hair and an angular jawline. He smiled wide when he saw them over there, speeding up his walk for the brief few steps that remained between him and their end of the bar.

“Wilford! Holy shit it’s been awhile!” the man said, absolutely grinning from ear to ear.

“Scheid!” Wilford said, standing up from his stool a little to give the man a hug from over the counter. “When did you start bartending here? I thought you worked at the pub a few blocks away!”

“Nah, boss was an asshole so I came back here when I saw they had a spot open,” the other man spoke. “I swear, I’m _never_ gonna get used to you being fully-dressed. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you in a thong more than I’ve seen you in pants.” He then caught a glimpse of Danny  after he said that. “New plaything?”

“Hey!” Danny retorted, a little offended that he was just being called a plaything.

“Sort of,” Wilford responded to his friend with a smirk. “It’s more mutual than that. Call it friends with benefits, if you will.” He looked over to Danny, and gestured to the bartender. “Danny, this is Tyler. He’s been a friend of mine since I started college. Tyler, this is Danny. He’s been my fuck buddy for about two weeks now.”

“Danny?” Tyler glanced between Wilford and Danny a few times before gaining an expression of dawning realization. “As in Danny Sexbang? From Ninja Sex Party? Who you interviewed on your show a couple weeks ago?”

“You bet your ass!” Danny said, expression lighting up. He loved it when people recognized him, even though it didn’t happen too often compared to if he was, say, a movie star or the lead of a major A-list band instead of a surprisingly popular rock duo.

“Oh my god. Hanson! Get over here! Look who Wilford brought with him!” Tyler called over toward the stage. A heavyset man about Danny’s height with brown hair hopped down off the stage, where he’d been poking around at a laptop for the past few minutes.

“Tyler, Wilford brings in all sorts of characters. Who did he drag in this time--- holy shit,” the guy interrupted himself, freezing in place when he saw Danny. “Wilford, since when were you fucking around with a _rock star_!? How the hell do you pull strings like this? This is bullshit!”

“He lured me into his dressing room and gave me a surprise blowie after he interviewed me on his talk show the other week,” Danny said before Wilford could even respond to this new person. “Basically he bribed me to be his fuck buddy by sucking my dick so well I couldn’t say no and actually mean it.” Wilford’s face turned bright red, and both Tyler and the new person busted out laughing at how matter-of-factly Danny had told them about how the situation with Wilford came to be.

“Yeah, that sounds like a Wilford trick,” the new guy said, finally catching his breath after laughing so hard. Then, he held his hand out to Danny for a handshake. “I’m Arin. I’ve been a fan of NSP for _awhile_ now. It’s kickass to finally meet you!” Danny grinned and shook Arin’s hand firmly.  Suddenly, Arin got a look on his face like he’d just an idea. “What would I have to do to get you to sing something tonight? Any song you want, I can make it happen.”

D anny glanced over at Wilford, silently asking if it was alright to take that offer. Wilford nodded and pushed Danny a little to motion him off of the stool he was sitting on.

“Go for it! Have fun! I’ll save your seat for you!” Wilford said, waving his hand to shoo Danny away. Danny practically leapt off of his stool and followed Arin to the stage to figure out song he wanted to sing. Tyler leaned on the bar counter.

“You want your usual tonight?” Tyler asked. Wilford looked over to him and nodded.

“Glass of bourbon, neat,” he answered, almost as if trying to remind himself what his usual was at this point. Tyler poured him a glass of the amber-colored liquor and slid it over to him. “Thank you, Scheid.” Wilford looked back over to the stage, smiling to himself and taking a sip of his drink when he saw how excited Danny was to be up there and picking something to sing.

“You like him a lot more than most of the other fuckbuddies you’ve had in the past, don’t you?” Tyler asked, catching Wilford by surprise. Wilford nodded, not looking back at Tyler but instead keeping his gaze on Danny, who was talking to Arin about something and smiling like a damn fool.

“It’s the first time I’ve actually made friends with one of them, at least,” he responded, resting his head on the back of his empty hand. “It’s a nice change from what I usually put up with, isn’t it?”

“You’re a hell of a lot happier than any other time I’ve seen you, that’s for sure. So yeah, I’d say it’s a pretty good change.”

A rin checked to make sure the microphone on the stage was on, and brought it up to his face to speak.

“Hey everyone! We have an awesome guest here tonight paying us a visit, and he wants to sing something for you guys! Everyone give a warm welcome to _Danny Sexbang_!” he announced, gesturing over to Danny as a solid majority of the people on the club’s bottom floor applauded, whooping and cheering. He passed the mic over to to the rock star, who almost looked kind of overwhelmed by the amount of attention he was getting, but once the club patrons quieted down a little, Arin tapped a button on his laptop to start the song Danny had chosen, and he seemed to calm down a little.

The song started out with piano and synth chords that made it sound like a perfect ballad, and Danny took the brief instrumental at the beginning as chance to close his eyes and take a deep, calming breath. When it came time, he started to sing.

_I can’t fight this feeling any longer,_

_and yet I’m still afraid to let it flow..._

_What started out as friendship has grown stronger,_

_I only wish I had the strength to let it show..._

His voice rang out, sweet and smooth as the lyrics kept on. He really did have a great voice for slower, ballad-like songs. He had a great voice to begin with, but being able to sing something much sweeter and slower made him sound even more beautiful.

Wilford found it hard to take his eyes off of Danny right now. He was in his element, doing what he loved doing. He looked _happy_. Wilford quickly found himself thinking about how nice it’d be if _he_ could make Danny that happy _all the time_ …

The thought threw him for a loop and he knocked back a hefty gulp of his bourbon to try and chase it away for now. It wasn’t something he wanted to put up with for the time being, so he just passed it off as little more than an annoying intrusive thought, albeit one that he felt like he needed to douse with alcohol until he forgot about it. He managed to knock back the entire glass without realizing it immediately, and then looked into the glass with a look of disappointment mixed with the realization that the bourbon was going to hit him a lot quicker than usual this time because of that. Oh well, he already said he didn’t plan on staying sober all night. Might as well get a head-start on getting absolutely plastered. He quietly set the glass back down and gave Tyler a glance over his shoulder in a silent request for a refill of bourbon. Tyler did just that, filling the glass back up and sliding it a few inches toward Wilford once again.

Even after knocking back the glass of bourbon, Wilford just couldn’t get that thought out of his head. Seeing Danny so happy and enjoying life was one of the greatest things he’d witnessed in a _long_ time, and it made his chest tighten a little. There was this twinge of sappy, gushy, emotional nonsense trying to swell up inside of him and it left him feeling conflicted. He couldn’t tell right now if this was just the moment and the excitement of being at this club with Danny talking, or if it was something else trying to make itself heard. He tried not to think too much of it though, still trying his damnedest to force it back down and just enjoy the fact that Danny was singing and loving everything about it.

A few minutes later, the song was finished, and the bottom floor of the club roared with cheering and applause for Danny, who started blushing when he came back into the reality of where he was and the fact that he’d basically just been convinced to show off. He bowed, thanked Arin, and then strode off the stage and back over toward his previous spot next to Wilford.

“That was amazing!” Wilford said, smiling wide and hugging Danny furiously. “You looked like you _belonged_ on that stage! Well done, Danny!”

“I mean, I just kinda sang the way I do when I’m home and listening to music...” Danny mumbled, embarrassed now. “It’s not like it was really all that great...”

“Danny, listen. You’re an _amazing_ singer, and now everyone in this club knows it if they didn’t already before,” Wilford said, getting Danny to sit back down at the bar. “How about we order you a drink? You seem a little nervous. A cocktail will help take the edge off for you.” Danny nodded when Wilford suggested Danny order a drink. “Tyler, friend, could we get Danny a drink?”

“Sure thing. What can I get you?”

“Um… A Long Island iced tea, I guess?” Danny said, deciding what he wanted on the fly. Tyler nodded and got to work mixing the drink for him.

\----------

About two hours later, Danny and Wilford were both tipsy and together on the dance floor, Danny having managed to down three of his chosen cocktail, and Wilford having knocked back five glasses of bourbon easily. Okay, Wilford was actually much more than tipsy at this point, since he wasn’t exactly very alcohol-tolerant, but at least he was still conscious and somewhat aware, if a little clumsy.

Suddenly, Wilford smirked, suddenly pulling Danny toward the staircase that led to the second floor of the building.

“Huh? Where’re we going?” Danny asked, genuinely confused. Wilford got him up to the top of the stairs and then turned to speak to him.

“This is where the fun stuff happens, babe,” Wilford replied, guiding Danny over to a corner of the room. Suddenly, they both heard someone from nearby speak up.

“Yo, Sexbang! Wanna smoke with us?” a voice with a distinct British accent called out. Danny turned to look over to them, and quickly realized he could smell weed. And it was the _good_ shit too. He looked over to Wilford, who nodded before he even had the chance to ask anything.

“I’m coming with you though. I’m not going to smoke, but I’m gonna be there with you even if I’m not smoking,” Wilford managed to slur out, kind of speaking in a roundabout manner as he fumbled for purchase of his words. Danny immediately started pulling Wilford over toward the group, neither of them seeming to realize that they were holding hands. The other people at the table parted somewhat to let Wilford and Danny into the little corner booth they were occupying, and the two sat down, Wilford leaning against Danny, his head resting on the taller man’s shoulder. He curled up on the seat, knees up to his chest and his feet resting on the edge of the seat.

“Aww, Warfstache is a cuddler!” the person who’d invited them over said, teasing a little. Wilford just stuck his tongue out at him.

“Zip it, PJ,” Wilford slurred out, but barely sounding like he cared that he was being teased about being cuddly.

\----------

It wasn’t long at all before Danny was stoned out of his mind. The group eventually dispersed, leaving Danny and Wilford in the corner booth by themselves while the music kept pounding through the entire building. They were both kind of lazily eyeballing the other people on the floor, but then Wilford got a little cheeky and trailed a hand up Danny’s thigh to palm at his crotch gently.

“Babe. I think… I think we should go back to my place,” Wilford said, kinda mumbling but speaking clearly enough to be understood somewhat well. “I’m horny and I don’t think it’ll be good enough to go fuck in a bathroom stall.”

“Huh? What, seriously? Holy shit maybe hail an Uber or something?” Danny asked, snaking an arm around Wilford’s waist to pull them flush together.

“I think I got one set up earlier? I just gotta hit the button to actually submit the thing maybe.” Wilford fumbled to pull his phone out of his pocket, opened up the app, and made a noise when he found what he was looking for before tapping the screen about three times or so in an attempt to actually hit the button he was trying to hit. “Wanna make out until the car shows up?”

“Fuck yeah I do,” Danny said with a grin. Quickly, Danny ended up leaning against the wall at the far end of the booth with Wilford straddling him. Lips were shoved together clumsily, damn near pulling a moan from Wilford. It felt like every inch of his body was hypersensitive right now, and making out like a couple of excited teenagers just made that worse. Danny’s hands rested on Wilford’s hips, and Wilford’s hands found their way to Danny’s jawline. It took absolutely no time for tongues to be involved either, managing to make the kiss even sloppier and clumsier than before. Wilford’s hands moved to try and dislodge the scrunchie from Danny’s hair and pull his ponytail out of its place of being tied back. Luckily he managed to actually pull the thing out of Danny’s hair without too much effort, and the scrunchie found its way around Wilford’s wrist like a bracelet.

“Good god you taste like bourbon,” Danny said, breaking the kiss before starting to attack Wilford’s neck and jaw with little kisses and bites. Wilford shivered.

“And you taste like weed. What of it?” Wilford asked. He moved to undo his own bowtie, letting the now untied silk garment drape around his neck from underneath his buttoned-down shirt collar. He and Danny were then quickly back to their clumsy makeouts, just trying to pass the time before their ride showed up.

It took about fifteen minutes for Wilford’s phone to start buzzing with the notification that their Uber driver was outside, and he and Danny had to break out from their face-sucking session so they could actually get up and head outside. Wilford stumbled over his own feet, the alcohol not letting him have any kind of grace in his movements, and Danny caught a hold of him and held him up as they headed downstairs and outside. There was a car idling near the front of the building, and Wilford double-checked that it was the right car before he and Danny awkwardly toddled over to it and climbed in the back.

“I apologize in advance, but like… I’m very drunk, and Danny is tipsy and stoned out of his mind. We’re fine though. We won’t cause trouble,” Wilford warned, actually thinking to let the driver know the situation beforehand. “We’ll even try not to get handsy with each other back here. Even though we’re literally going back home to fuck each other into the next millennium.”

The driver turned around and gave them a baffled look, and Wilford finally got a good look at him. He was a skinny young man, probably not much older than maybe 20, with a tuft of bright blue hair on top of his head.

“Pardon the bluntness there. I didn’t want to sugar-coat it, kid,” Wilford corrected himself slightly.

“Alright Mr. Warfstache. Do you want me to take the shortest route to the address you’re going to, in that case?”

“That would probably be the best idea, yes,” Wilford said with a wink. “By the way, what’s your name, kid?”

“Ethan,” the driver responded, putting the car into drive and pulling it out of the parking lot. “Ethan Nestor.”

“Nice name, Ethan. It suits you,” Wilford said, leaning against Danny’s shoulder. “You going to school or anything, Ethan?”

“Yeah I am, actually! I’m going to the university on this side of town. I’m an acting major!” Ethan responded, sounding kind of excited.

“Geoff L. Ramsey University?” Wilford asked. “That’s the college I went to for journalism. Great school. _Huge_ pain to get into though.”

“Yeah it was a huge chore to get accepted and get everything set up, but I managed to get my student loans to cover going to this school even though it’s so far away from my home state,” Ethan said, looking into the rear view mirror at Wilford while the car was at a stoplight. “The place is expensive too though. I really hope the whole acting thing works out for me...”

“Kid, lemme tell ya something. I went through _all sorts of shit_ in college. It was a rough ride, and I did some things I’m still not proud of. But you know what? It worked out. And I know it’ll work out for you too,” Wilford said, hiccuping after he finished his little mini speech.

“You really think so?”

“If I could go from where I came from to where I am now,” Wilford said before pausing to add onto his statement for clarification. “Not drunk as hell in the back of an Uber, but I mean my life in general right now. But if I can go from where I came from to this, you can do it too.” He sat up a little and glanced out the window to see how far they were from his condo now. Turns out he could see the place up the street a little ways, his bright pink Mercedes being a nice beacon to let him know what to look for even if his brain was clouded with a haze of alcohol.

“Hell yeah dude! Just keep at it! You got this shit!” Danny cheered, finally actually saying something after being completely zoned-out and staring unfocused out the window of the car.

“Wow. You guys are a lot cooler than I expected any famous people to be,” Ethan admitted sheepishly. “Especially to some skinny acne-ridden college kid driving an Uber.” He pulled the car as close to the front of the driveway as he could. “Thank you, Mr. Warfstache. Even if you’re drunk right now, I’m glad you talked me through some of this stuff.”

Wilford grinned, unbuckled his seatbelt, and leaned forward over the back of the seat a little. He kinda manhandled his wallet for a second before getting it open and pulling out a stack of folded hundred dollar bills held together with a paperclip.

“I barely know you, but I can tell you’re a good kid. Keep at it, sport, and if you need me you know where to find me,” he said with a wink before opening the car door and stepping out, having to hold himself up with one hand on the side of the car briefly while his remembered how to legs. Danny got out of his side of the car with comparative ease, and walked over to Wilford’s side to help him along. Wilford looked back to the car a little, grinning when he saw Ethan still looking absolutely flabbergasted at the wad of money he’d been handed, and waved to him in confirmation that yes he meant to hand him a thousand dollars out of the blue like that.

He fished his keys out of his pocket as he and Danny trekked up to the front door, and after about a minute of fiddling around with trying to figure out which key actually went into the deadbolt, managed to get the door open so they could get inside to the privacy of a house.

Wilford quickly got the door shut and the deadbolt locked again, and immediately afterwards he was pinned with his back to the door and Danny littering his neck with kisses, licks, and bites. Wilford let out a wanton moan, tilting his head back to give Danny more access to his neck. Danny fooled with the buttons of Wilford’s shirt, hastily trying to get that rude, intrusive article of clothing _off_ of him as quickly as he possibly could. Suspenders were slipped off of Wilford’s shoulders haphazardly, the amount of care given to actually unclip them from his slacks absolutely nonexistent at this point. Wilford’s chest was exposed soon, and Danny was back with his mouth latched on to Wilford’s collarbones this time around, hands now trying to unbutton his trousers. Wilford grabbed ahold of Danny’s tie, pulling the narrow back portion to untie it, and it was unceremoniously tossed to the ground.

Danny hoisted Wilford up, holding onto him from underneath his thighs and keeping him firmly backed against the wall, and Wilford gasped from the sudden movement. Even in the dark living room where neither of them could really see properly, this was probably one of the hottest things Wilford had ever experienced. He felt the familiar sting of a hickey being left just under his right collarbone, and whined.

“Danny… Upstairs...” he managed to croak out, his arms resting on Danny’s shoulders and his fingers carding through the taller man’s hair. A moment later he was placed back on his feet, and got the opportunity to start tugging Danny toward the staircase and up to the bedroom, the both of them progressively shedding articles of clothing along the way and not really caring where on the floor or any piece of furniture they ended up. By the time they actually made it to the doorway of Wilford’s bedroom, they were both stark naked.

Wilford was pushed backwards to guide him back onto the mattress, and soon Danny was hovering over him, tongue laving over Wilford’s nipples and making him squirm and whimper. Being drunk always made Wilford hypersensitive over every single part of his body, which made sex even _better_ than when he was sober. His entire body was hot and tingly, and the fog clouding his head made it hard to focus on thoughts rather than feelings. And what he was _feeling_ right now was the absolute need to get fucked into the mattress as soon as humanly possible.

Wilford gripped Danny’s shoulders like his life depended on it, arching off the bed and spewing out pleas for Danny to touch him more. There was almost no hesitation after he started begging for more contact when Danny’s hands started to wander, one of them grabbing at Wilford’s cock and the other one moving to hold his hips down on the mattress.

“Please Danny I need you… Oh god I need you so bad, Danny...” Wilford rambled out, bucking his hips frustratedly but being held down. He whined, but the noise only earned him a sloppy open-mouthed kiss, Danny’s attempt to shut him up for the moment. Wilford was so desperate for something more than just teasing, and Danny seemed determined to torture him with slightly less contact than what he craved. Once Wilford had been successfully pacified with sloppy tongue-kisses and was in somewhat of a trance, Danny pulled away from him completely, leaving Wilford suddenly cold and confused.

He opened his eyes back up, looking around the dimly-lit room for Danny, only to see him walking toward the closet where Wilford kept his collection of toys and other assortments of sex-related things. Wilford made a little whimpering noise, trying to get Danny to come back over to him and keep touching him, but Danny tutted and shook his head.

“I have an idea, Wilfy. Just stay there, okay?” he said, opening up the closet and starting to look through a few drawers, seeming to be searching for something in particular. He chuckled to himself when he found what he was searching for, and turned back around, hiding something behind his back. “Close your eyes, babe. Trust me.”

Wilford gave Danny a look of suspicion, but did as he was told, having a feeling that this was the part where he finally got fucked senseless.

“Good boy… Do you want me to finger your greedy hole so you can take what I have planned for you?” Danny cooed, trailing his fingertips along Wilford’s taint just enough for him to feel it. Wilford gasped and whined in the back of his throat, nodding his head furiously. “Use your words, Wilfy. Do you want it?”

“God please Danny I need it so bad… I wanna be your dumb slut _so bad_...” Wilford begged, wiggling his hips a little in desperation to just be fingered already. He didn’t even hear the pop of the cap on a lube bottle through his own brain fog, but he definitely recognized the familiar feeling of fingers prodding at his entrance. He spread his legs purely on instinct, and Danny responded by pushing a single finger into him almost suddenly. Wilford keened quietly and pushed his hips back a little toward Danny’s hand. Danny thrust his finger into Wilford to coax him into relaxing a little, and quickly afterwards a second finger was pressed into him. Danny thrust those fingers a few times before deciding to curl and scissor them inside Wilford, wrenching a desperate mewl and an arch of Wilford’s back.

Danny was actually impressed by how quickly Wilford was opening up for him this time, and when he slipped a third finger into him and was met with the response of Wilford pleading him to _stop teasing, dammit_ , decided to do what he was planning on. He withdrew his fingers, earning a whimper from Wilford again, and then tapped Wilford on the thigh gently.

“Scoot up against the pillows, Wilfy,” he said. Wilford nodded and scooted himself so his shoulders and head were resting against the pillows at the head of the bed, his legs spread wide in anticipation. Danny grinned at the sight of Wilford being so needy and desperate to be fucked, and picked up the thing he’d been hiding from Wilford: an oddly-shaped vibrator. It was relatively large, curved forward, and was ridged. He slicked the thing up with some more lube, and circled the very tip of it around Wilford’s prepped hole to tease him. Wilford whimpered and wiggled his hips, starting to once again ramble out pleas for Danny to just get on with it. And that’s just what Danny did, pushing the toy into Wilford’s ass without a second thought. Wilford’s breath hitched in his throat and he let out a low moan, recognizing what toy Danny has pushed into him damn near immediately. And if Danny knew how to work the thing…

Suddenly, the vibrator came to life inside of Wilford, ripping a cry of pleasure out of him as Danny started to shallowly thrust the toy in and out of his ass. Wilford started bucking his hips back, his cock dripping precum heavily onto his tummy, and Danny took that as his cue to turn the vibrator up a few notches, making Wilford’s toes curl and his breath to shorten into panting that was separated by whimpers and moans. Wilford’s mouth fell open, noises of pleasure and need falling from him like no tomorrow. Danny thrust the toy at a slightly different angle and got a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob out of Wilford in response, trembling legs and more rapid-fire sounds afterwards signifying that Danny had managed to find his prostate. Danny grinned wide and cranked the vibration speed of the toy up to maximum, shoving it in to the hilt and jamming it directly against Wilford’s prostate. Wilford’s legs were shaking something fierce then, and moan after whimper after cry after _sob_ fell from his lips as he white-knuckle gripped at the bedsheets for dear life. Next thing he knew, Danny was straddling him, their cocks pressed together and Danny starting to rut against him. The double-onslaught of pleasure was starting to kick Wilford into overdrive, bringing his orgasm along much faster than he anticipated already. He rolled his hips desperately against Danny’s, finally getting the friction he so badly needed against his cock right now.

Arms lurched up to wrap around Danny’s torso, Wilford clinging to _him_ now instead of the duvet cover. He started to babble out things like “god so close” and “gonna cum please keep going oh my god please Danny” between breaths and moans. That knot in his abdomen was building and building much more quickly than he wanted, but _god_ did this feel more amazing than he anticipated too. He knew there was a good fuck waiting at the end of the night, but damn was this even more amazing than he had hoped. Then, as suddenly as could be, that spring of tension finally snapped and he cried out, coming hot against his belly and chest. Danny didn’t last much longer either, hip movements getting erratic and soon his own spunk joined Wilford’s.

There was a moment of heavy breathing before Wilford let out a groan, wiggling his hips to let Danny know that the vibrator was still buzzing strong directly against the sweet spot inside of him and trying to prompt him to turn the damn thing _off_ , for fuck’s sake. Danny fumbled with the vibrator, turning the base of it to turn it off, and pulling it out of Wilford then as well.

As soon as Danny had the vibrator out of Wilford and put off to the side, he was suddenly shoved onto his back and pinned down. Wilford was straddling _him_ now, and grinning like a hungry cat who cornered an injured bird. He swayed his hips, resting his hands on Danny’s shoulders to keep him held down.

“I’m gonna ride your cock like it’s my life’s purpose,” he slurred out, half from drunkenness and half from lust. He felt around for the bottle of lube with one hand, and once he found it he made a point to be as slow and teasing as possible with slicking up Danny’s cock enough to be able to be shoved into him. Once he had Danny lubed up enough, he positioned himself over the other man’s cock and sunk down onto it, letting out a low moan as he did so. He had himself seated fully on Danny’s length, and he cracked his eyes open to look down at the man he was riding. Danny looked back up at him and they made eye contact. Wilford was still grinning, even though his face was flushed dark crimson.

“God Wilford you feel so fucking good...” Danny breathed out, resisting the urge to thrust his hips upwards and start fucking Wilford silly. Wilford took a moment to adjust to being full of cock again, and soon he slid himself up and back down again on Danny’s shaft, still resting his hands on Danny’s shoulders for leverage. His head bowed down a little, Wilford having to do that to keep his balance and be able to focus on bouncing on Danny’s cock without losing his grip on reality too much. His movements quickened soon, and he found himself moaning like a cheap whore. Wilford missed having the opportunity to ride someone. It always felt so amazing to be so full of dick he had no idea how to make his brain do things right.

Danny’s hands rested on Wilford’s hips to steady him, and he thrust upwards to meet Wilford’s movements and keep his legs from giving out. He was already drunk as all hell; he didn’t need to wear his legs out too. Fingertips dug into the soft flesh of Wilford’s hips as he moved a little harder, his own hips almost slamming into Danny’s with each movement they met to each other.

“Keep doing that baby oh my god you’re such a good little whore aren’t you?” Danny growled out, earning a whimper from Wilford. Danny made a point to thrust upwards a little harder into Wilford, successfully striking his prostate head-on and making him cry out from the shock of bliss that sent through him. Wilford hesitated momentarily, his legs not wanting to move after the feeling of having his still sensitive prostate being slammed into again made his body temporarily seize up. He managed to convince his legs to keep working though, and continued bouncing on Danny’s dick, albeit a little more slowly than before because of his legs starting to burn a little from effort. Danny held tight onto Wilford’s hips, holding him a little more still as he fucked up into him. He occasionally struck Wilford’s prostate still, earning the reward of more needy moans and whimpers, and begging to _keep going oh god please use me fill me up_.

Danny gladly obliged, thrusting upwards harder into Wilford and feeling his next orgasm approaching. Judging by the way Wilford was stammering and whining, he was getting close to another too. He moved a hand away from Wilford’s hips in favor of stroking the mustached male’s cock instead. Wilford was moaning and groaning and whimpering out warnings that he was getting _so close, god more please I need it_. Danny felt the coil of heat in his belly ready to snap, and gave a few sharp, hard, uneven thrusts into Wilford, angling to slam _directly_ into his prostate again with each thrust, before both he and Wilford came at the same time with breathy moans. They took a brief moment to collect themselves, and then Danny looked up at Wilford and ran a hand down his thigh.

“Lay down on your stomach,” he commanded, firm but not aggressive. “And you might want to have a pillow under your chest.” Wilford took a little bit of time to make his legs allow him to get up and off of his place seated on Danny’s cock, but soon he was in the position he’d been told to take and holding one of the many pillows on the bed under his chest for what he assumed was support. He was about to glance back at Danny when he felt a hand grab his right leg behind the knee and shove it forward and spread him open. “I think I should fuck you until you pass out. What do you think, _Wilfy_?” Danny all but cooed, grinding his once again hard cock against Wilford’s still very loose hole. He took a good look at Wilford, licking his lips when he saw how the pink-haired man’s hole was dripping some cum but otherwise holding it inside him pretty well. He was going to make an absolute _mess_ of him. “I could pump you so full of my cum you’ll be able to feel it whenever you move...”

Wilford clutched the pillow he was holding to his chest hard, whimpering and pressing his ass back toward Danny. The thought of being absolutely filled to the brim with Danny’s cum was something he _definitely_ wanted to happen.

“Please Danny… I wanna be your little cum dumpster… _Please_...” Wilford pleaded, voice broken up and desperate as he rolled his hips against the duvet to get some friction on his groin again. Danny smacked Wilford’s ass harshly, causing Wilford to yelp and shiver and leaving a nice red mark where his hand had collided with soft flesh. Then he gripped Wilford’s hip with his free hand, the other one still hooked behind Wilford’s leg to hold him open, and sunk his cock back into him in one swift motion. Wilford’s hands scrabbled across the pillow he was clinging to in an attempt to ground himself, and he cried out when Danny immediately started fucking him senseless again, pushing his leg up toward his chest hard to keep him spread and make it easier to fuck him.

Wilford found himself burying his face in the pillow he was using to support himself, muffling his moans and screwing his eyes shut as his whole body convulsed with every single thrust Danny gave. His breathing was harsh and heavy, and he rolled his hips back frantically to meet Danny’s. Hips were ramming against each other, and the obscene slap of skin on skin could be heard throughout the room. He needed this _so bad_ and he was starting to feel a little overexerted but it was amazing nonetheless. With every thrust he could feel a third orgasm getting closer to being wrenched out of him, and he could already tell it was going to be overwhelming this time around. He could feel Danny ramming into his prostate repeatedly again, and every single thrust drove him closer to what felt like the bring of insanity. Then suddenly, his orgasm shocked through his body out of what seemed like nowhere compared to how close he was just seconds before, and he cried out loudly, arching his back and tightening around Danny’s cock.

“Aww, you came again already? Too bad I didn’t yet… Guess I’ll have to keep going, huh?” Danny asked, starting to pound into Wilford relentlessly now, earning a choked-back sob from him. Arms snaked around Wilford’s torso, holding onto him firmly while Danny kept fucking him hard and fast despite Wilford being overstimulated and writhing under him. Wilford felt himself slipping into subspace, whimpering and pleading and whining and complaining about it being too much and he was just so sensitive and he was _going crazy_. Danny didn’t listen though, still determined to rail Wilford out of consciousness. Wilford’s moans were starting to sound more conflicted between desperation and pleasure, still hypersensitive and fully hard again but feeling like he wouldn’t really produce anything when he came this time. He bit down on the pillow to quiet his cries, loving the torture of being fucked through overexertion like this but also starting to feel a little dizzy and light-headed from it as well.

Danny started ramming harder into Wilford, thrusts starting to get more uneven and hesitant but he was striking Wilford’s prostate again over and over and harder and _harder_. Wilford felt like this fourth climax was coming on incredibly fast, and he tried to say something about it but was interrupted by Danny gripping his cock and stroking him quickly with one hand, and shoving the other in his hair and yanking his head firmly back by it. That was what sent Wilford absolutely careening over the edge this last time, _screaming_ in pleasure as he came dry and felt Danny filling him up with more of his thick semen, but not really feeling much after that.

There was a brief moment of silence, and when Danny let go of Wilford’s hair, Wilford just sort of collapsed where he was. He’d passed out from the overexertion of being pushed through four orgasms, and he was actually trembling while he was curled up on top of the duvet cover. Danny was breathing heavily, looking at Wilford and being worried until he could tell that he was breathing. Then, not even worrying about any kind of clean-up, he pulled out of Wilford finally and spooned up behind him, promptly slipping into sleep as well, absolutely exhausted after that night. It was pretty peaceful, considering the scene that had been going on moments before.


	15. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before was fun, but the morning after a night of drunken escapades is never pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't necessarily a pleasant chapter. It deals with the frankly gross results of a night of partying, so if you have issues with mentions of nausea and such, tread carefully. I promise there's fluff at the end though.
> 
> P.S. holy shit I took way too long to write this chapter I am SO sorry

Around seven o clock the next morning, Wilford woke up to feeling uncomfortably warm. He felt like he had been wrapped up in a heated blanket in a hot desert during the middle of summer. It was _agonizing_ and he felt like he was absolutely dripping with sweat. And then out of nowhere, he felt like he’d just been punched in the stomach. _Hard_. He gasped, eyes snapping open as he practically launched out of bed and sprinted to the bathroom, clutching his stomach with one hand and clasping the other over his mouth.

Danny woke up to the sound of coughing and gagging from the bathroom adjoining the bedroom, and he got up and sorta lumbered over to the bathroom to check what the hell was going on. He was met with the sight of Wilford, stark naked, shaking like crazy, and hugging the toilet like his life depended on it.

“Holy shit dude are you alright?” Danny asked, quiet because he had a headache coming on and he figured Wilford probably would too.

“I want to die...” Wilford mumbled, still face-down in the toilet and sounding incredibly in pain before starting to cough and heave again.

Danny bit his lip and tried to think of something to at least do some good for Wilford at the moment, and ended up settling for at least covering him up with something so he wasn’t entirely nude as well as being sick to his stomach. He looked around the bathroom briefly before seeing a fluffy pink bathrobe hanging up on a hook near the door and deciding to grab that. He walked cautiously over to Wilford and draped the bathrobe over the sick man’s shoulders, unsure of exactly how to handle this situation.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Wilford groaned out before going back into another round of coughing and heaving.

“Well you did drink six glasses of bourbon last night...” Danny said, and was met with the response of a raised hand with an extended middle finger from Wilford. “Yeah I know, that’s not what you wanna hear. You really do need to watch how much you drink though.”

“Kiss my ass...” Wilford grumbled, turning his head a little to give Danny a dangerous side-eyed glance before once again going back to ejecting what felt like the entirety of his innards. “Ugh I barely _ate_ anything last night… Where is all this shit I’m puking up _coming from_?”

After a few more cycles of vomiting and calming back down, Wilford finally managed to muster up the ability to push himself back a little from the toilet, haphazardly smack the lever to flush it, get his arms into the sleeves of the bathrobe Danny had put on him, and then just kind of lay on the floor in a miserable heap. Danny knelt down next to Wilford and rubbed him on the back awkwardly.

“Do you need me to get you anything?” he asked Wilford. He was met with a groan.

“Painkillers. Antacids. Ginger ale...” Wilford mumbled, not even looking up at Danny. The bathroom was situated so the morning sunlight didn’t really shine in too well, so thankfully he wasn’t having much of an issue with light sensitivity yet, but that didn’t help the fact that he didn’t want to move in case moving triggered another wave of violent nausea. “A noose to hang myself with...”

“Jesus that got morbid real fucking quick,” Danny said after Wilford added that last part. “I’m not bringing you a noose but I can do the other stuff I guess. Are the painkillers and antacids in the medicine cabinet in here?” He was answered by a half-assed thumbs up, and he opened the medicine cabinet to fish out the container of antacids and a bottle of painkillers. “You want me to get the ginger ale too?”

“In the fridge. There are cans of it,” Wilford responded, and Danny nodded before quietly heading downstairs to get Wilford a can of ginger ale. After a moment’s pause, he grabbed one for himself too because if he got punched in the face with sunlight chances are his stomach would start to hurt too. He started to head back upstairs and realized he’d never really gotten a good look around Wilford’s condo before. The extent of his time there so far had been a pathway from the living room to the bedroom, and that was about it. So naturally, he got a little curious. He took a little extra time getting upstairs (not too much time, but just enough to ponder as he walked), slowing briefly to look at some of the things on the walls, and settled for a moment on a bulletin board on the wall by the landing at the top of the stairs, with a sign that read “How Far I’ve Come...” just above it. It had a good amount of memories pinned to it, with cute sparkly pink thumbtacks no less, but one particular thing caught Danny’s attention. There was a photo there of what he could only assume was Wilford at his college graduation, decked out in his cap and gown, with cords around the collar of the gown, at the podium and looking like he was giving a speech of some sort. Next to that photo was a note with an arrow pointing to the photo and the words “despite everything” on it. He had no idea what “despite everything” meant in this case, so it caught his attention. He’d have to remember to ask Wilford about that later on, when he wasn’t hungover, nauseous, and miserable.

He walked back toward Wilford’s bedroom, and consequently the attached bathroom, thinking to himself and trying to figure out what the hell “despite everything” could be signifying. What had Wilford been through for him to feel the need to remind himself he graduated college? Either way, he was planning on prying sometime later on. For now, he just needed to make sure Wilford survived this killer hangover of his.

Danny walked back into the bathroom, and was met with the sight of Wilford sitting on the toilet, eyes not even halfway open, the bathrobe hiked up over his thighs, and him slouched over somewhat.

“What in fresh fuck…?” he asked cautiously, genuinely baffled by the sight, since he’d expected Wilford to not have moved so much as an inch, much less managed to get up and sit on the damn toilet.

“Had to take a leak,” Wilford mumbled, blunt as can me. “Legs don’t wanna work right now, so I gotta sit.” He groaned after he spoke, rubbing at his eyes with his right wrist. “Plus you took your sweet time, so however much jizz you pumped into me last night drained out of me too.”

“Okay wow TMI there, Wilf,” Danny said with an uncomfortable laugh, setting the two cans of ginger ale he’d grabbed on the counter. Wilford actually cracked open his eyes a little more and looked over at Danny with a cocked eyebrow.

“You’re the one who apparently fucked me into oblivion last night...”

“Yeah but like… The whole afterthought of what happens with the jizz is weird, though.”

“Then don’t forget the condom next time if you don’t want to deal with the afterthought of the jizz,” Wilford said, still blunt as all hell. “Now, can you help me get up so I can take the meds, brush my teeth, and take a shower? Please?” Danny nodded in response and helped Wilford get up, hoisting him by the torso with one of Wilford’s arms around his shoulders. Wilford flailed his free hand over to hit the lever on the toilet to flush it and then to knock the lid of the toilet back down with a hollow clunk. “Sorry I’m a dead weight, by the way. I think cooked spaghetti would be more useful than my legs right now.”

“You’re fine, dude. Just hurry up and take your meds so you can brush your teeth, alright?” Danny responded, and got a nod from Wilford, whose hands immediately fumbled across the counter to grab for the painkillers and antacids, and then try feebly to open one of the cans of ginger ale. Eventually there was a success, and Wilford had downed the medicine in a heartbeat before getting to work brushing his teeth and rinsing his mouth out with mouthwash to get rid of the awful aftertaste of having vomited. Danny had him sit on the edge of the bathtub while he tried to work out how to make the tub faucet work and have the showerhead turn on instead of the spigot. It took a solid two minutes of Danny struggling with the unfamiliar faucet and Wilford laughing at him before everything was the way it needed to be. They’d both agreed that it was probably better for them to shower together again, and to not use scalding-hot water this time, for the sake of the both of them. Wilford still felt nauseous, Danny was still fuzzy-headed, and a super hot mirror-clouding shower was not going to help that at all for either of them.

Of course, Danny wouldn’t let Wilford do any more than wash his own ass, insisting that he’d “railed him into the next century” and therefore needed to extend the night before’s (actually non-existent) aftercare into that day. Wilford begrudgingly agreed under the trance of having his hair washed and rinsed, and Danny called “no take-backsies” once Wilford was aware of what he’d just agreed to. He was well aware that Wilford was going to bitch all day about not needing to be taken care of, but he was willing to shoulder that inconvenience as long as it meant Wilford didn’t do anything stupid or reckless.

After they showered, Wilford and Danny took the opportunity to get dressed, Danny borrowing some of Wilford’s clothes and being surprised at just how comfy they were. They made their way downstairs, gathering up discarded clothing from the night before on the way, and Danny managed to convince Wilford to at least have a bowl of cereal to get something in his stomach, even if he felt like it’d just come back up later. According to Wilford, his hangovers usually extended far past their welcome, and the nausea phase was the absolute _worst_. Apparently he usually got hit by the nausea in waves, instead of just all at once. Danny felt sorry for the guy, to be honest. Finally, Wilford actually got a small bowl of cereal down, and Danny insisted they curl up on the couch together and watch something mindless on TV to get Wilford’s thoughts away from how shitty he felt. Once again, Wilford begrudgingly agreed, knowing Danny wasn’t going to let up until he actually humored him.

They were cuddled up on the couch, Danny having asked Wilford how the hell the TV worked and finally getting the thing turned on and starting to channel surf. Wilford was curled up against Danny’s chest, still looking like the physical incarnation of death but giving input on what he did or didn’t want to watch on a Sunday morning when otherwise he knew almost nothing good would be on TV. They ended up settling on Animal Planet, watching a marathon of _Too Cute!_ Because there was nothing else mellow on TV other than some Food Network show Wilford couldn’t stomach watching right now.

During a commercial break that Danny muted to save both himself and Wilford a worsening migraine, Wilford suddenly made a noise of realization and shifted to look at Danny.

“By the way. I forgot to mention this last night before I got as inebriated as possible without alcohol poisoning, but after this coming Saturday I’m gonna be gone for two weeks,” he said before flopping his head back against Danny’s shoulder.

“Huh? Why?” Danny asked, brows furrowed together in confusion.

“Nightly travel special across the country. ‘Warfstache On The Move’ is a new thing that got pitched, and it’s getting a trial run to see if it’s something I’ll be doing every year from here on out,” Wilford responded with a slight shrug. “If the ratings turn out well it’ll be a thing I do for a month out of every year.”

“Where are your stops gonna be?” Danny was just kind of grilling Wilford for answers at this point, genuinely interested in this special now.

“Hm… Let’s see if I remember off the top of my head...” Wilford muttered, closing his eyes and looking like he was concentrating incredibly hard. “Boston, Philly, DC, Norfolk, Orlando, New Orleans, St. Louis, Chicago… Um, Minneapolis, Dallas, Austin… Phoenix, Salt Lake City, and Las Vegas.”

“Holy shit that really _is_ across the country, isn’t it?”

“Coast to coast, darling,” Wilford almost sounded exasperated by it. “I’ll be staying in Vegas for an extra night, too, as a little congratulations to myself for putting up with that trek. I’d slit my producer’s throat for approving that if I didn’t need the fucker...”

“I guess you’re not the one who pitched that two-week special?”

“Not in the slightest. I actually fought against it until my producer shoved his ugly face into the equation.”

“Oh that reminds me. I have some errands to run tomorrow, and I wanted to give you a spare key to my place so you can let yourself in if me and Brian aren’t home and you wanted to stop by,” Danny said, and Wilford perked up slightly, looking at Danny in almost disbelief.

“You’re serious? A spare key?” Wilford sounded absolutely dumbfounded before getting up and sort of hobbling over to the hooks on the wall where he kept his keys. He pulled a small key ring with one key attached to it off of the hook and hobbled back over to the couch, almost having his legs give out from under him at least five times in the six-foot trips to and from the key hanger. He handed the key ring to Danny with a small smile. “Then same to you. You need anything and I’m not here, let yourself in.”

“Holy shit Wilf you’re reciprocating it? Oh my god that’s not what I expected you to do. I thought you were going to like. Not trust me because Brian might get ahold of the key and---” Danny was interrupted by Wilford climbing back onto the couch and settling back against him. Wilford was resting on him in a way that had him nuzzling his face into Danny’s neck, and that caused Danny to blush. “Just shut up and cuddle. Gotcha. Lemme just um… unmute the TV here and we can continue our lazy cuddle session this afternoon hahaha ha. Haha. Ha...”

The television was unmuted, and Wilford and Danny continued their lazy hungover cuddling escapades. And even better, Wilford only had to sprint to the downstairs bathroom twice during the rest of the day.


	16. Scandalous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford takes advantage of that key Danny gave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I'm sorry this took so long to upload! I got involved in something and just. Lost my motivation to write. I'm getting back on the ball though I promise!
> 
> NOTE: there's fluff at the end. You're welcome.

The next morning, Wilford found himself waking up strangely early. Compared to Sunday morning he felt fine, but he still felt… off, he supposed? Either way, he didn’t sleep very well and he was up before dawn, which was hours earlier than normal. He got up to use the toilet, and when he got back to bed he curled up and tried to get back to sleep, but it was fruitless. He groaned and looked at his alarm clock to see what time it was. Four-thirty. Sure, he’d gone to bed early the night before, being absolutely exhausted and sore and just wanting to pass out, but this was ridiculous even for having gone to sleep before ten.

The time lying there and hoping for at least another two hours of sleep ended up with him starting to ponder some things. Some of said things he decided to bottle up and put aside for a later meltdown, but some of them he tackled while he was curled up under his comforter and sheets with the drapery of his canopy bed closed on either side of the frame. He had a feeling he’d have to talk to Danny about some of his past at some point, especially since they were getting surprisingly close surprisingly quickly. It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to, but he decided he was willing to talk about it when and if it came up. He still hoped it wouldn’t come up, but nonetheless he knew it likely would eventually.

He dug through his brain and started to get the feeling that the reason he hadn’t slept worth a damn was because he was stressed about the upcoming two weeks after the current one. He wasn’t used to travel anymore, especially when the travel involved fourteen solid days going from one side of the country to the other almost non-stop. It was going to be a long, stressful, exhausting two weeks and he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. But he supposed he had to do it anyways, didn’t he?

Seven in the morning rolled around and Wilford had all but given up on getting back to sleep again. He got up and made a pot of coffee before preparing it how he liked it and pouring it into a massive travel mug he’d gotten from a convenience store _years_ ago. After his breakfast and shower, and without worrying about his coffee (read: reason to live) going cold thanks to the super-insulated travel mug he was convinced had to be the product of black magic, he checked his phone finally. A reminder text had been sent to him from Danny:

“ _gonna b runnin errands w bri til like noon. let urself in if u come ovr!”_

Danny’s text-speak was atrocious.  Nonetheless, Wilford sighed and decided to flop onto the couch and watch some mind-numbing Monday morning television for awhile.  Maybe some cartoons? Who knew at this point. Nine in the morning on a Monday never really bode well for having any decent programming.

H e started to get an idea after about a half-hour. Maybe he could give Danny a little…  _ surprise _ when he came home from running errands with Brian.  He decided to get himself back upstairs to inspire himself.

- \---------

“I dunno, Brian, what if he doesn’t like it?”

“ _Quit being a baby, Dan. He likes pretty much everything.”_

“Yeah I guess you’re… Right...” Danny’s words trailed off when he walked from the foyer and got a good look at the couch in the living room. Well, less the couch itself and more the sight _on_ said couch. Wilford was there, wearing a pink, lacy teddy with an _extremely_ deep v-neck that went far down enough for his stiff cock to be poking out of the most downward extent of the opening, and with a few thin straps across the front and across the sides to hold the lingerie together. He was wearing pink and black striped thigh-high socks with red ruffles and ribbons along the top cuffs of them, and he was posed essentially spread-eagle on the couch, lying down with his left ankle resting on the back of the couch and his arms behind his head as he rested on a few pillows against the arm of the couch. A light blush was dusted across his cheeks, tinting his face a pinkish-red color along his cheekbones and across his nose.

“Oh dear, you’ve discovered me in such a compromising, intimate position!” Wilford exclaimed dramatically, trying to look embarrassed but really just looking like a little shit. “Whatever shall become of this scandalous situation? Good gracious, I’m so horrifically embarrassed!”

“Wilford. What the fuck are you doing?” Danny asked, an expression of exasperation on his face even though he was blushing and his cock was straining in his underwear and track pants.

“Well if I play my cards right, hopefully you.”

Danny paused for a moment and then shuffled through one of the shopping bags he’d been holding, fishing out a brand-new bottle of lube before dropping the bag on the floor and walking over to Wilford without a second thought. He grinned and wordlessly positioned himself on the couch between Wilford’s legs, popping the bottle of lube open with his right hand and moving the left to shift the crotch of Wilford’s lingerie, but his fingers brushed against something underneath it, causing Danny to look down at him in confusion.

“Are you wearing one of those buttplugs with the jewel in the bottom of it…?”

“I didn’t want to wait for you to finger me open, so I decided to keep myself stretched while I waited for you to get back~” Wilford responded to Danny’s question without missing a beat. Danny grinned a little, almost dangerously.

“Wow, what a needy little bitch. Couldn’t even wait for me to get home so I could finger you open and use you as my cum dump, could you?” Danny said, voice low as he reached down to wiggle the plug inside of Wilford a little, earning a choked-of moan from him. “You had to finger yourself like a dirty whore so you didn’t have to wait for me to fuck you. Pathetic.” And with that, he pulled the toy out of Wilford and licked his lips as he put it on the coffee table. Quickly, he pulled his track pants and underwear down, not wanting to bother with taking them off completely right now, and worked to lube up his cock. He grinned at Wilford. “You ready for my cock, Wilfy?”

Wilford didn’t even get a chance to answer Danny’s question before his legs were hiked up over Danny’s shoulders, and he had a cock sunk into his ass in one swift movement. Wilford let out a noise, high and needy in the back of his throat, wrapping his arms up around Danny’s shoulders and neck when he leaned over him and started fucking him almost immediately. He’d expected a sudden fuck, but not quite _that_ sudden of a fuck. God did he love it though! Shaking fingers tangled in curly hair, and spindly arms wrapped around a lace-clad torso to hold the shorter of the two close. Danny suddenly shifted his and Wilford’s positions to have Wilford sitting up just a little more and have his lower back and tailbone resting on a pillow to give Danny more leverage and a better angle at which to mercilessly ram into Wilford’s ass.

Wilford keened and moaned loudly, clinging to Danny for dear life. He was _definitely_ still feeling some residual soreness leftover from Saturday night, but that sting just added more fuel to the sexual furnace that was Wilford’s insatiable libido and touch-hunger. Nails bit into Danny’s shoulders as best as they could when Danny was still wearing a shirt, and Danny’s lips and teeth grazed the side of Wilford’s neck just below his jawline.

Wilford’s noises were absolutely unhindered, loud and desperate as he was fucked into the couch. His toes were curling, his head fell back, and his mouth hung open with continuous gasps and moans that echoed slightly in the room. Suddenly, he felt that familiar pleasurable zing shooting up his spine and having him seeing sparks, and he let out an even louder cry than before, rocking his hips back at a fevered pace to meet to Danny’s thrusts.

“Right there! God _right there_ keep going Danny _please_!” Wilford pleaded, clinging to Danny for dear life. His chest heaved with his harsh breaths as Danny kept fucking Wilford and ramming directly into his prostate over and over and over again. Wilford could feel his climax fast-approaching and he _hated it_. He hated the fact that Danny knew how to push his buttons just right to be able to draw an orgasm out of him so quickly. He was always known for his ability to make himself last, but Danny sure as hell knew how to make him into a much quicker fuck than he’d prefer.

Wilford was about to warn Danny about his impending orgasm, but Danny seemed to have read his mind, judging by the way a hand moved to palm at Wilford’s length through the lace fabric of his getup. Wilford’s teeth found their way to the taller man’s collarbone and bit down to stifle his sounds somewhat. His cock was leaking precum in thick gobs onto his tummy, making a sticky, gooey mess that neither of them seemed to notice yet. Danny’s thrusts were starting to get uneven and frantic, much to Wilford’s relief because that meant he wasn’t the only one who this was going to be a quickie for. And just like that, Wilford arched his back and came, legs tensing up and his hands gripping at Danny’s shoulders tight. Danny shuddered and groaned too as he pumped Wilford full, his thrusts slowing down gradually as he rode out his climax.

Able to be semi-coherent after his orgasm for once, Danny motioned at Brian to bring something over to him. First off, Brian brought him the box of wet wipes on the end table next to the couch, which Danny proceeded to clean himself and Wilford off with. After Danny was done cleaning the two of them, Brian brought over a bag from the sex shop he and Danny had gone to on errands. He booped Wilford on the nose, causing Wilford to snap partially out of the haze he was in while he came down from that blissful post-fuck fogginess. Once he had the pink-haired man’s attention, he pulled the object out of the bag in his hands: a deep magenta leather collar, adorned with small silk roses and metal spikes. There was a ring attached to the front, and a pink mustache-shaped tag hung from it. On the tag read the word “babygirl” engraved into the metal. It was probably one of the prettiest collars Wilford had ever seen, and he looked at it like it was some sort of alien technology. He pointed at it, and then at himself, and looked up at Danny in absolute befuddlement. Danny just nodded in response and unbuckled the part of the collar that fastened. Wilford scrambled to try and sit up, but was pushed back against the pillows by Danny. He wasn’t having Wilford injure himself by trying to do things too soon after getting railed halfway to Timbuktu. After a little bit of wrestling Wilford into submission because Wilford was a stubborn shit, Danny managed to get the collar on him properly, and he grinned when he looked at how gorgeous it looked around Wilford’s neck. It definitely suited him.

“What’s with the collar?” Wilford asked, still sounding flabbergasted. Danny was blushing a little and shrugged at the question, causing Wilford to raise an eyebrow.

“Brian and I were out getting things for the next NSP music video and I saw that and thought of you,” Danny responded, sounding sheepish and embarrassed. Wilford smirked and yanked Danny into a hug. Danny yelped as he was pulled against Wilford’s chest, but smiled too then. “Glad you like it.”

“I hope you realize I’m almost never taking this off. This is a permanent fixture to my being unless I’m bathing or swimming.”

“What? You mean---”

“Yes even on national television.”

“Oh good fucking lord what have I done...?”


	17. How to Amuse Oneself During Traffic on a Tour Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford is on the longest road stretch of his cross-country tour, and the bus is stuck in traffic. He needs to keep himself occupied, and he comes up with an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You want Skype sex? Here, have some Skype sex!
> 
> P.S. I am SO sorry I haven't updated this fic in so long. I got sucked into other projects and this ended up neglected because of it. But I'm back on the ball with writing now, so hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things!

Later in the week, Wilford packed his things and left for the east coast. He got some pre-recorded things set up for the show that would run during his last day on the trip, his little Vegas vacation, and thankfully it was the end of the show’s season current so he had a few weeks off afterwards to recuperate.

Unfortunately the trip also meant he’d likely have to go two weeks without getting laid. Well, at least he had a tour bus to himself and a collection of toys he could put in a suitcase to stay on the bus. Sure, he had to pack up the suitcase full of toys beforehand because the bus had to drive to the east coast while he’d be taking a plane there and then being on the bus for the tour on the way back, but he had plenty of others to play with for the time-being.

And then was the longest stretch of the trip, between the two cities the furthest from each other, on a traffic-heavy highway that nobody had researched the construction activity of beforehand, and who was likely going to get themselves fired, and possibly shot in the back of the head. Oh well, at least it gave Wilford the opportunity to chill. And then he had an idea.

Getting up, he closed the soundproof door of his bedroom in the back of this monstrosity of a tour bus, and started rustling through a drawer where he’d put a good majority of his clothes and other sorts of things. Meanwhile, his laptop was sitting on the bed, booting up as it stayed plugged into the outlet in the wall. He hummed, opening Skype when the laptop was booted, and getting ready for what he had in mind.

He sent Danny a message telling him to log into Skype, and Danny complied because he hadn’t spoken to Wilford verbally in over a week now. And as soon as Danny was online and sent Wilford a message, he was being called.

The view of the call from Danny’s perspective was... A wall. That was literally it. Just a wall.

“Oh ha ha. Nice prank, Wilford. You can come out now.”

And then the camera shifted, showing Wilford sitting pretty on the mattress of his bed, in babydoll lingerie and a thong, and wearing the collar Danny had given him before his trip. And Danny’s jaw dropped.

“Holy shit Wilford, what’s with this all of a sudden?” Danny sputtered, absolutely baffled by the sudden almost erotically aesthetic display. Wilford laughed a little, grinning that mischievous grin he was so known for. Danny blushed upon seeing that grin, knowing just what that meant.

“Danny, darling… I assume you know how  _ boring  _ tour bus life is? How little time you get to stop and get laid between locations, and just how frustrating that can get. I’ve been getting antsy and pent-up in the past week or so, and I imagine you’ve been feeling the same, judging by the bright red on your face.”

Well, Wilford sure hit the nail on the head with that, didn’t he? Danny hadn’t gotten  _ any _ ass since Wilford left, and he’d been too busy to even jack off. And now that he finally had the time to himself, he supposed it couldn’t hurt to indulge a little.

“Well, what do you have planned for this, then? You’re grinning like a damn fool over there.”

“Worry not. I took care of the foreplay before this so I didn’t have to keep you waiting. And I do have a bit of a surprise waiting for you. It’s something you should remember.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. A the thought of Wilford “surprising” him was a little worrying, to say the least. But hell, as long as he was at a distance he figured it’d be fine. He shrugged and moved to unzip his pants, and when he looked back at the computer monitor Wilford was holding that bright pink, monstrously large dildo that he’d shown Danny that day he’d brought over a portion of his toys to show off.

Danny’s jaw dropped when he saw that thing and realized he was finally going to see it in use. He was going to see Wilford being his size queen self. He was… Actually pretty excited about that, and Wilford could tell by the way Danny stiffened up, shoulders going rigid and eyes going wide. Hook, line, and sinker.

“Do wanna see me sink this thick cock in my greedy hole, baby~?” Wilford cooed, about as sultry as he could possibly muster. He had experience in acting sexy, thankfully, so he knew how to push buttons without actually being able to touch the other person. Danny nodded quickly, damn near drooling as he watched Wilford with an anticipation that Wilford hadn’t seen before in the man. Wilford wiggled his hips a little, letting out a soft sound in anticipation.

He sat up on his knees and lifted the bottom of that babydoll gown as he turned with his ass in clear view of the camera. Fingers were hooked under the waistband of his panties, and they were pulled down in a strip tease sort of fashion to reveal that he had in fact stretched himself already. His entrance was dripping lube and very obviously loosened well. He heard a moan from the other side of the screen, and found himself smirking.

“If you like what you see  _ now _ , just wait until I get that thick, beautiful toy in me…”

“Please Wilfy I need you! Hurry up…!” Danny suddenly pleaded, catching Wilford by surprise. But he certainly didn’t want to disappoint Danny, so he just had to comply, right? He moved to grab the dildo, and he took a moment to line it up with his hole before sinking down on it with a breathless whine. It had been awhile since the last time he’d fucked himself with this particular toy, and it felt like heaven even if it burned a bit. He was absolutely stuffed full with the toy, and it took a moment to adjust to the sheer size before he could lean forward against his left arm and use his right hand to pull the dildo out, and then thrust it back in. He heard another moan from Danny on the other end of the call, and that just encouraged him to go harder and faster with it. His toes were curling, his left hand was gripping the soft bedcovers in desperation, and he made a split-second decision to still his right hand and just ride that thick toy properly.

He bucked and rolled his hips, and he felt his voice hitch in his throat, vision starting to go fuzzy and dark around the edges. He made a noise like he was on his own and completely unashamed of himself, starting to whimper and mutter as he rocked his hips back to sink that toy into himself straight to the hilt over and over again.

Meanwhile, Danny was stroking his cock with a fervor he hadn’t in a long time, for lack of a reason to. He had let his eyes slip shut briefly, and when he opened them again he was suddenly struck with just how  _ beautiful _ Wilford was, even like this. Every single bulge and curve of his body, how soft he was, he was just  _ stunning _ . Danny hadn’t really ever taken the time to notice how genuinely beautiful Wilford was, and the sudden realization was like a bolt of lightning to his chest. He found himself smiling a little despite himself, but he was snapped out of his momentary haze by Wilford letting out a particularly needy cry. He had picked up the pace of riding the dildo, and the way his movements stuttered even just slightly meant he was getting close to his orgasm.

Danny was close to his as well, so really he was glad the both of them were so eager after being touch-starved away from each other for over a week. It was almost embarrassing to the both of them to be so close to climax so quickly, but they were both stressed and pent-up enough that there was an excuse for it at least. Danny kept fucking his fist like his life depended on it, and after a few more moments of vicarious sex through a video call, Wilford let out a moan like something out of a particularly good porno as he arched his back and shuddered violently in the shock of his climax. Seeing the way Wilford’s back arched so beautifully, and the look of bliss on Wilford’s face, Danny found himself shoved over the edge like an unsure bungee jumper with a douchebag friend. He ended up coming so hard he managed to get some of it on his chin, which he was pretty sure was a record.

About two minutes of heavy breathing and only questionable acknowledgement of each other’s existence passed, and Wilford finally managed the strength to actually pull the dildo out of his ass and flop over onto the mattress in an exhausted heap. He had a dumbass grin on his face as he gazed at the screen of his laptop to see Danny still struggling to come back down from the high of his climax. Danny didn’t come back to reality  _ too _ much later, but it was still long enough that Wilford was snickering at him when he finally did.

“What’re you laughing at, pinky? I haven’t jerked off in a week, and you’re too fucking pretty for me to not get my rocks off that hard watching you fuck yourself.”

Wilford actually blushed in response to that, and he looked genuinely confused at the statement made to him.

“Pretty? You think I’m  _ pretty _ , Danny? What?”

“Duh? Have you looked at yourself? You’re goddamned beautiful! Your body belongs in an art museum as a master’s painting, like a Da Vinci work or some shit!” Danny wasn’t exactly thinking as he spoke, his brain not quite having caught up with his mouth yet. Wilford was oddly silent, and Danny started to get a little concerned for a moment. “You okay over there? Did I break you?”

“You’re the first person to tell me I’m pretty, or beautiful. I’ve heard sexy, and gorgeous, and hot, but never something like pretty. I… I like it. It feels nicer to hear than the other things I’ve gotten called by people who think I’m attractive. Thank you.”

“Seriously? Holy shit Wilford, what kind of assholes have you dealt with---”

_ THWUMP. _

The sound of furniture in the tour bus shifting and settling at the sudden application of the brakes was heard, and Wilford actually got jostled about a little and seemed to have been frightened by it. But that brief moment of fright quickly changed to annoyance beyond belief.

“I need to go put some clothes on and figure out what the fuck just happened. Goodnight, Danny. Sweet dreams.”

Danny had never been so upset about the end of a Skype call.


	18. What happens in Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford is finally on his way home from the last show of his tour, and maybe things didn't quite go as he planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus it's taken me a long-ass time to update this, hasn't it? Well I'm back and I'm sorry for taking so long. I'm trying to get back in the swing of things now, though!
> 
> This is actually a smut-less chapter, but it implies a few somewhat less-than-savory things. Granted, not as bad as what could be brought up, but still iffy at best. Namely drugs. There are drugs mentioned, or at least alluded to.

_ “Are you really sure this is a good idea? I mean, I have a history with the stuff and-” _

_ “Oh quit being a pansy, Warfstache! You’ll be fine! You’ve been clean for how many years now? Four?” _

_ “You’re sure it won’t cause any issues?” _

_ “Absolutely!” _

_ “And you’re not just trying to give me bad shit to make me overdose?” _

_ “Why would anyone want to do that to you?” _

\----------

Wilford had never felt worse than he did the day after his Vegas show. He couldn’t remember much after sign-off, except for talking to a few people from one of the venues he’d covered during his show, but as far as he knew he had partied harder than he had in a  _ long time _ . His left arm was numb and there was a bruise at the crook of his arm, he was dizzy and cold, his stomach felt like it was trying to implode… He really hoped he hadn’t done what he thought he did. He hunted around the room for any telltale signs, and though he didn’t find any he was still concerned.

Oh well, it was probably nothing. Except the nausea. That was definitely something. He had woken up in his room on the tour bus, and after that brief moment of searching for things and then relief when he didn’t find them, suddenly the urge to vomit kicked him in the stomach like a ninth-degree black belt’s flying kick. He all but trampled into the tiny bathroom attached to his bedroom by a thin, flimsy door, coughing and hacking as he collapsed to his knees on the floor. Okay, he was definitely hungover. Honestly, he wondered just who in the hell had dragged him back here, and if he’d managed to stumble back on his own.

He managed to purge out that bout of illness, and stood up to look at himself in the mirror. And holy mother of fuck did he look awful. Dark circles under his eyes, the remnants of what appeared to have been a nosebleed, a worryingly solid bruise circling his left bicep... Yes, this would absolutely be a sunglasses type of day when he got back home, that was for absolute sure. He brushed his teeth no less than four times, took a cold shower to help chase off the awful hangover, left the bathroom, and fell forward onto his bed almost dramatically.

After about thirty minutes of slipping in and out of some sleep-like state, his phone buzzed and startled him sufficiently. He reached over and picked it up, squinting at the screen before realizing his vision wasn’t exactly reliable enough to be able to read the screen.

“Hello?” he slurred out, realizing in that moment that he likely wasn’t even sober yet. He groaned, rolling over onto his side and just being plain grateful that his room did not have a window to let in sunlight.

“Jesus, Wilford, it took you long enough to answer the phone! I’ve only called you like five fucking times!” Danny rattled out from the other end of the line. Wilford’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment, as if to briefly consider what was going on and who he was talking to. Yep, definitely not sober yet. “You called me at like three in the morning and left some incomprehensible bullshit in my voicemail. Shit’s got me worried, you douche!”

“My apologies. I was by no means sober. What happens in Vegas, as they say…” He managed to drawl into the phone, letting out the weakest of laughs and then groaning slightly. “And I think I’m coming down with something, on top of that. I don’t know whether it’s from an adrenaline crash or just two weeks of traveling and people.”

"You want me to stop by your place once you get yourself settled back in kinda?"   
  
"Not necessary. I can take care of myself, thank you very much. I've been doing so for years, after all." Wilford actually sounded genuinely offended, a cold sort of bitterness to his voice that hadn't even been hinted at before. The offer to check in on him for some reason had Wilford very obviously irritated. Generally he had no real qualm against being taken care of, but for some reason that had set him off this time. Maybe because he was already on-edge because of not having gotten laid for two weeks, or maybe he was just moody and exhausted. Either way, he immediately felt at least a little bad for going off on him like that, though he didn't voice it.

_ Maybe he just didn't feel like he was worth worrying about like that? _

Woah, woah, there was no reason to be going down that path, and Wilford refused to let his mind continue wandering in that direction.

"Fuck, dude, okay. You don't have to go for the fucking throat like that you ravenous douche!" Danny growled back a little. "Glad to see the road hasn't changed you. You're still an insufferable asshole."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Sexbang."

"Yeah me neither. But seriously if you need something just let me know, okay? And for fuck's sake at least let me know when you get settled in back at your place? Just for my mental sake and so Brian doesn't stab me in the throat for pacing a literal trench into the floor."

"Fine. You're no good to me with a stabbed trachea, are you?"   
  
"Seeya, Wilford. Don't die, got it?"   
  
"No promises."

And Danny groaned before hanging up the phone.

Wilford held the phone up, looking at it as it stayed on the "call ended" screen for awhile before flopping his arm back down and closing his eyes again. It was going to be a long day…

\----------

It took a bit of effort for Wilford to get back settled into his house, and he even had to coax the driver of the tour bus and a few members of his camera crew to help him get his luggage dragged inside.

"Thanks for dragging in the last of my bags, Jim. You're really helping me a lot by doing that for me."   
  
"Which Jim? There's three of us."   
  
"The one who helped drag in the last suitcase I had. You. Literally the one I am talking to right now. Why the hell are your brothers named Jim too, by the way?"   
  
"It's a family name."   
  
"...I'm not even going to question that. I'm too sick and hungover for that kind of horsefuckery. Just know that I appreciate the assistence. Now shoo."   
  
"Yes sir, Mister Warfstache!" Jim said, giving a dorky salute and galloping away in an awkward gait. Wilford just watched him way, dumbfounded because the Jim triplets had been brought onto the crew just before the tour and were a new set of camera operators who were damn good at their job, and he didn't expect someone more bizarre than he himself to be involved with his show. At least it wasn't that Trimmer fellow from down the hall in the studio. He didn't trust that guy.

Once the door was shut, Wilford shuffled into his bathroom, grabbed an armload of various medications, laid them out on the coffee table, and then bundled himself up in the throw blanket from the back of the couch. He was starting to get chills, and his throat was bothering him.

He fucking hated traveling...


End file.
